A "Laundry List" of Blessings

It was a snowy morning in New England on this Thanksgiving Day. I was doing not much out of the ordinary. The dishwasher was busy humming. A load of laundry was tumbling in the dryer. My two older boys were outside playing in the first snow of the season with their dad. As I was busy quietly folding the mounds of clean laundry that seemed to accumulate over the past few days (You know the deal. You wash and wash and wash. The throw in the basket, decide to "get to it later", and then proceed to work out of said basket day in and day out for the next week.). The baby was at my feet, happily cooing up a storm on his activity mat, as I folded up the millionth onesie he would inevitably spit-up all over as soon as his chunky little body was squeezed back into it. It was no special task, but it did provide some time to reflect on the simple abundance that surrounded me.

On a day when proud Americans near and far celebrate all that they are thankful for, I couldn't help but take in all that has truly graced my life. I realized that I was thankful for the ability to fold a million onesies. There was a time in my life when doctors told me my babies would be a challenge to conceive. I was even thankful to fold the socks and jeans and underwear that shared the same basket, as all these things kept us warm and protected on snowy days like this. I was thankful that I have the ability to stay at home and do these ordinary tasks. Thankful that my husband has a job that he loves, that he has wanted to do his entire life; that can provide for his family and satisfy his career goals all while allowing me to stay at home with our three beautiful children. I am so thankful for our home. Not just because it provides us basic shelter, but because it is located in an amazing neighborhood chock full of people who genuinely look out for and care about one another. Our own little piece of "Mayberry". A street where everyone really knows each others' names; where kids can play safely in the streets; where families congregate on a weekly basis in one way shape or form whether it be a stroll around the block or a casual get-together over coffee; where you seriously can call up someone and borrow a cup of sugar, and then deliver a batch of completed cookies to their doorstep when they are cooled. I am thankful that this neighborhood is located in a country that bestows so many freedoms that I admittedly take for granted. A country that, although imperfect at times,  doesn't pay a second thought to granting women an education or the right to vote or purchase a piece of land or start their own business. I am so blessed beyond measure for the three amazing sons that I get to call "mine" and for the fact that they were all delivered in a safe hospital where access to the best forms of medical interventions was available at the staffs' fingertips when needed. I am thankful for the family that surrounds me. Not just for the members whom I was born to, but for those who I acquired through marriage, and those who have become my family through steadfast friendship and love despite distance and time. I am thankful for my church family. The people whom I have known for the majority of my life. The ones who "raised" me in a house of God and I now entrust my own babies to. I am thankful for the community that they provide and the support that they extend to others who seek refuge in a house of worship in a world where the rules of religion can be so flawed and cruel. I am thankful for the schools that my boys attend; for their teachers who lovingly nurture and inspire them each day when they are not in my care. I have seen how much each of my kids have grown and flourished in such a short amount of time during a monumental school year for them.

It really is amazing how all of these revelations poured out of me as I sat in my living room sorting and folding. And yet, that is really what grace is all about: Acknowledging the fact that, many times, the ordinary is, in fact, truly the extraordinary.