Some of them I didn’t even have to make

When I woke up this morning, I found myself in a most extraordinary situation.

Someone – not me – had spread a glorious thick carpet under my bed, so that when I swung my feet over the edge, my toes sank deep into its silvery luxury. Extraordinary.

Beside my bed, I found two pieces of shocking technology, one a little device that monitors my heart and stores the data of all my heartbeats for a whole month, and then sends them on command to a clinic in Erie. (How? It baffles my mind. Not for generations of men was this possible.) The other, a device that connects me to any human, anywhere in the world, who owns a similar device. There were messages on it, waiting for me, from people I will not see today, who love me and wish me well.

I opened a drawer or two and found a whole wardrobe of clothes that fit me just right. Some of them I didn’t even have to make. They were radiant in all the colors, textured, fine. Warm sweaters. Thick socks. Glorious dresses, including some of my very favorites.

In a little room nearby, I found endless hot water, at the turn of a knob. Cold water too. Soft towels, bright lights, and a smooth mirror to show me what humans wondered about for centuries: the clear sight of my own face and person.

The air in my house was warm, an embrace of richness while the earth outside shivered in the morning. Inside, the floors were firm and level, the rooms just so, the doors handmade, the woodwork old and rich, crafted by people dead these many years. They may have harvested the trees from their own property, and worked with their fingers to make these walls strong and beautiful enough to last for two hundred years, far past their time here.

Downstairs, the wonders continued. In the kitchen was a whole refrigerator full of delights – milk for breakfast, good yogurt, new eggs from our own chickens, and drawers filled with tasty produce that cannot possibly be grown in my area at this time of year, from red tomatoes to glowing oranges. All kept cold and fresh, waiting for me.

Plates and bowls smooth and round, crafted not to break. A sturdy table. The smell of coffee, reaped thousands of miles away and served up hot, here. Rows and rows of books, the wisdom and humor of thousands of years, hundreds of humans. Beautiful art on my walls, my furniture tops, my refrigerator – some made by my children, some by dear friends, and some by people I will never meet. My whole house a feast for the senses.

And there were PEOPLE. You wouldn’t believe the beautiful faces I saw, gathered there. Two growing boys, long-legged and fighting and smiling – actually smiling! – at their mom. Two pretty girls, perched on bar stools, ready for a new day. Their hair was long and shining, their pajamas warm. These four survived all their sicknesses, thanks to the mercy of Christ and the marvels of modern medicine, and were spared many more. They reached for what they needed, walked around on the checked floor. All the parts of their bodies worked. They spoke to me and heard my words and their eyes sparkled. Here is this miracle, that we can form sounds that make meaning, that our hearts connect.

I saw a man there too, really a lot more handsome than I remembered, with that moustache I love and the strong shoulders. He stood up to hold me close like he does every morning, and asked, How are you doing? with his eyes on mine.


Every thing.

I am sheltered within a house whose every corner holds treasures that cry out to me YOU ARE LOVED. YOU ARE LOVED YOU ARE LOVED YOU ARE LOVED.

Just because I am used to it doesn’t mean it isn’t breathtaking.

Happy Thanksgiving from my family to yours. What did you see when you got up this morning?

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Marjean Nisley
3 years ago

Wow! Convicting for me and charged with contagious gratitude. Thanks sister!

Anna Nisley
3 years ago

I echo Jean. What fun to be reminded to look at my morning and day differently! ❤

3 years ago

I could get drunk on the wonder in these lines! The world is starved for the truth you write here.

Rosanna Martin
3 years ago

This is alchemy.

3 years ago

“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean it isn’t breathtaking. “ Profound. Amazingly so.

3 years ago

I loved this post! When I woke up this morning there was a kitty begging for breakfast. My husband waking from his slumber with his CPAP machine humming away. My girls were still sleeping so I my Ninja coffeemaker beckoned me to serve it’s daily task of making our coffee bean juice. If only it poured my coffee and served it to me.☺

3 years ago

Yes, yes, yes! My day (Thanksgiving today) started buried under warm blankets I didn’t weave, surrounded by solid walls built over a century ago. I wish they could talk. Opened my technology device to see pictures of my nieces, taken yesterday, thousands of miles away. Now eating granola – a recipe from a friend – with cold milk – and a steaming mug of hot coffee. Coffee grown and roasted miles away, heated by gas piped in for miles. I’m blessed. Thanks for the reminder!

Ruth Anna
3 years ago

Never mind all the comforts we take for granted….we storm into work fussing about how stupid Covid and masking is, we gripe about the voter fraud and conspiracy theories and how crazy the Dems are….
Oh, Jesus, have mercy.

May we receive each day with a grateful heart!

3 years ago

This floored me. What a perspective! What riches we have to be thankful for! Thank you for opening my eyes to the magic of everyday things.

judy roth
3 years ago

In the middle of a pandemic and a fractious election, these things are still occurring???!!!!

3 years ago

Perspective changes everything. You’ve been brave enough to be honest, so long time readers here know if you so wished you could craft a blogpost with all the irritants and insecurities that you awoke to as well.

We will eat our thanksgiving day meal with friends who immigrated here from Nigeria. I will never be the same since meeting, knowing and loving them. The first year they were here, before we knew them, they literally went hungry at one point. There was nothing to eat for an 8 month pregnant wife (with health complications), her husband, and a three year old boy.

They don’t whine. They are truly grateful. They are thrilled whenever any blessing comes here to roost, without the tiniest shade of jealousy. We are blessed for being able to enjoy their friendship!

Priscilla F.
3 years ago

I needed this convicting reminder. Ouch, but thanks! And warm Thanksgiving blessings to you and yours.

Laura Showalter
3 years ago

Such beautiful truth.

Sharon Schrock
3 years ago

Thanks, Shari. And thank you, God!!!

3 years ago

Lovely. Thank you.

Heather Nicodemus
3 years ago

After receiving photos of flooding in Guatemala + listening to my dear brother’s tear-clogged prayer request, I looked at my own well-worn home with fresh eyes. Our blessings truly are a marvel. ♡ And this post is “like apples of gold in pictures of silver.”

3 years ago

These words moved me deeply. Thanks for sharing your gift of writing!

3 years ago

Perspective change needed in my heart and mind.

Thanks for sharing the abundance and goodness and beauty of what we consider the ordinary.

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