Gratitude and scave

I read and really loved the book Room by Emma Donaghue (I'll tell you more about it later in a book post).  One bit of it shone from the page and I snapped a picture of it so I could remember.  (So much easier than finding pen and paper to copy it down.)

My heart is heavy watching news reports about the terrorist attacks in Paris.  The news showed one person after another declaring they were going to forge on.  They weren't going to let terrorists curtail their lives.

They are scave.

And I admire them.

My reaction is to want to blow up the world and get all the bad people and Adam kindly and patiently tells me why that's a bad idea.

Sometimes life just feels heavy and dark.  When my children are struggling (or on the other side of the country), when the world is a violent and confused place, when sleep is illusive, I start to feel a little downcast.

Gratitude is always a good antidote to gloom though.  I love Thanksgiving for the reminder it gives me to be grateful.

I am thankful for light in the darkness, light in all its wonderful forms.

I'm thankful for snow falling on sagebrush out my window yesterday morning.

The snow was lovely and kindly made everything soft looking but also didn't build up on the roads.  They were just wet.

I'm grateful for good food and good music and a good husband (who convinces me not to blow up the world).  I'm grateful for the hope and light the gospel of Jesus Christ brings to my life.  I'm grateful for the transformative way baking bread changes a house to a home.

And I'm grateful my mom taught me how to make bread.