Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

BW part 2: the people who loved him into being

Thank you for checking in for part two of my interview with Handsome, aka BW, my amazing husband and the Lazy W artist in residence! If you haven’t seen part one yet, click over and enjoy.

Fred Rogers provided us all the notion of calling upon and thanking all the people from your life who “loved you into being.” I asked Brandy about his, and he surprised me with mentions of not only family mentors but also friends, people whose influence shaped important parts of his personality.

Brandy named childhood friends Larry, Rob, and Erin, who all showed him how to be comfortable, how to get “out of the house and out of the rut,” so much so that Brandy says they all three ruined him for adult friendships, ha! Now he gauges bonds based on how easy and natural they feel and by the absence of drama or competition, as he enjoyed with these guys.

Mrs. Boren was a next door neighbor all throughout Brandy’s life, a woman just slightly older than his parents who nestled herself into his young heart in myriad ways. Family legend includes a particular time in Brandy’s grade school years when she assured him that, “Sometimes a boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do,” referring to the rare but righteous necessity of a fistfight when standing up to a bully. She offered this wisdom quite against what his Mom had already said, but she never backed down from it. As often as this sweet story has been told over the years, Brandy insists it represents the tip of the iceberg of Mrs. Boren’s influence. He said she was always available on her front porch when he got home from school, even in his high school and college years, ready to listen. She would offer him a cup of coffee and gently press stories and good values into his willing ears. She provided a safe and unchanging place for him, his whole life. She grew apples and roses. He describes her as being, “Soft with her flowers but hardcore in fighting for what was right.” My goodness this became a pillar of his character.

Anyone who knows Brandy also either knew his Mom, Judy, or has heard enough stories about her to feel like they were friends. Deeply influential to her youngest child, she was the person who bestowed on him his “tilting at windmills” tendency. She was often up in arms, impassioned for one cause or another, always ardently defending the defenseless, throwing all of her worldly resources (as well as what spiritual resources she could access by prayer) at whatever crisis had presented itself that day, for friends and family and even strangers. Like Brandy, Judy never knew when to say, “That’s not my problem.” It was both a blessing and a curse for her, as it is now for her baby boy. Judy was a joyful welcomer to everyone at holidays, as Brandy strives to be. She was also a music lover, a sometime street racer, and a fearless conservative happy to mobilize for any local candidate she deemed worthy. Brandy continues living with so much of her influence. He also has her laugh, which since her passing in 2013 has often caught me quite off guard.

Brandy described his Dad, Harvey, as a willing worker, a man who would be out there in the trenches with his guys, wearing an owner-manager’s shirt and tie, shunning the comfortable office chair to instead help mount a bumper or spray a car with paint. He said his dad worked so hard that he was constantly in trouble for ruining his clothes. Harvey taught his son by example to never ask your employees to do anything you aren’t willing to do. As a result, Harvey’s employees always cared about him.

Brandy meandered around these memories a bit, laughing to recall how often he had witnessed his Dad arguing with dishonest customers to defend his employees. Hindsight gives Brandy this appreciation: “Dad ran every business he was in the same way, whether it was owning the body shop, running the police department, the Sherriff’s Department, dealerships, he made sure the employees knew he was working with them.”

I would say the same about Harvey’s son. He proves year after year, crisis after crisis, and in every imaginable kind of work environment that he is more than willing to be right there in the thick of it all, never assigning anyone to do what he is unwilling to do. As with Harvey and his shop, Brandy’s team cares about him greatly. Both men have always been protective of their people, maybe to a fault, unafraid of conflicts with the public or with outside forces. I think their industries are much better for these passed down traits, even if the appearance sometimes makes them unpopular.

Brandy’s upbringing had an especially vivid religious coloration (matched only by his spiritual evolution as an adult, which we address in part 3). I asked him about the formation of this part of his personality. He thought for a moment and said, “I was born into it, more than anything. It was the central theme, with only a close second of politics in my life. It was probably formed as much with Grandma’s (influence) as it was Mom’s.” He reflected and explored some memories aloud for a few minutes then shared something beautiful about his Grandma Goldie, who was the Pastor and preacher of his childhood church congregation: “Just everything Grandma did was spiritually motivated, and she wasn’t preachy about it. She just lived that way. She exuded spirituality, it was beautiful.”

Goldie Goddard was a formative role model for him in many ways, including but certainly not limited to the church house. I only knew her for a few years, but she made a deep and beautiful impression on me, too. Her legacy is vibrant. Which of Grandma Goldie’s qualities do you think you inherited? He thought quietly for several moments, offering a few warm hums while he thought about her. “Boy that’s hard to say,” he finally broke the silence, “To think that you’ve picked anything up from someone like her is hard to imagine, because she was just so cool.” Another long pause, then, “The way she loved to have fun, she really did, she was someone who loved to have a good time and loved to be silly. She loved dress up. She loved making costumes, I think I got that from her.” He remembers sitting and playing in his Grandma’s sewing room, “just making something out of nothing, you know she loved that.” Goldie also loved video games, which Brandy certainly still does. She taught him to play, to play with kids, to enjoy and embrace the fun luxuries of modern life, despite what people might assume about her being a conservative female preacher. “She enjoyed TV more than she let on. Driving! You know, she loved cars.”

Goldie was a stellar home cook who established many of Brandy’s present day food obsessions. “Yeah, the food. The sugar. God she loved sugar. I got my sugar tooth from her probably!” Dear reader, to this day, if I make his Mom’s famous lemon ice box pie recipe, I hand the empty but still thickly coated cans of sweetened condensed milk to my husband, and he almost always tells a story about Grandma Goldie. I love it. Eagle Brand Time Machine.

He had still more to say about this woman, specifically about her marriage to his Grandpa Eddie: “I noticed their relationship before I noticed Mom and Dad. You know, as a kid you don’t really appreciate your parents’ love relationship, but I noticed Grandma and Grandpa were different. They were just always so loving, and so lovey-dovey, you know smooching and holding hands, all the time. It was okay to be good to each other. They were one of the few couples like that, who really loved to do for each other, not just one doing for the other… They did for each other constantly. And loved to, you can tell.”

What qualities do you admire in other people? BW was hesitant to answer this at first. He claims to often have trouble seeing the good in people out in society, but taking the question less abstractly helped. As he explored his heart for the people in his own life, the words and affection flowed.

Brandy gushed about our friend Meredith’s passionate love, the way she “lives the gospel of support and love, beyond just words.” He included Mer’s parents, Tom and Raylene, citing how much they love each and how they demonstrate their church’s motto, “Love All the People.” BW described this couple as “passionate in their spirituality,” and I could not agree more.

He talked about his friend and employee Geoff’s innocent, well meaning drive to help, not for any gain but just truly to be a help. Another colleague, Mark, possesses calm and reserve which Brandy admires. Those traits are a great cooling balm to Brandy’s constantly hot spirit at work. Maribeth taught him that you can be the smartest person in the room but not act like it. She showed him how to “help people in ways that doesn’t make them feel stupid.”

More friends filled his mind, David and Keri. This is a couple with longevity and endurance. They have been through hell and are still grieving so much. “They are open about their pain. They show their pain, they are still strong and strong together and love each other and love their community. They set very high standards from other people and are not ashamed of that.” He admires how David and Keri have managed to set up a force field of well being around their home. He thinks it’s admirable to value your peace and center so much that you can speak up for your needs and stand up for your values.

Now he was unstoppable. He sat up a little straighter as he listed people in his life and their good qualities.

He talked about Brandon and his “undying desire to be the first to passionately give.” Also Dennis, who has seen and done so much in his life yet is passive about his knowledge and experience. “Sometimes we forget what he is capable of, because Dennis doesn’t have to be at the center of anyone’s attention. He’s happy to let others take the reins yet always stay nearby to catch his friends. Dennis is a fount of knowledge, but he doesn’t have to pour it on everyone.”

My husband got misty when he named Jessica (our youngest daughter) and her way of, “clinging to the possible, especially because it takes a lot of effort from her, plus her desire to care for others. Jess shares that caretaking urge with Alex (her husband).” We guess that their mutual love for helping others might have been part of how the Universe drew them together.

Brandy admires selflessness in his wife and her ability to “care about strangers in a nanosecond.” He admires that drive to care for others’ physical spiritual, mental, emotional health. He said, “I think it’s a pretty cool ability to take on or absorb others’ pain, but I don’t want it as a trait for myself because it looks exhausting,” ha!

Maybe you would see someone as accomplished and widely talented as he is and assume he mostly values similar achievements and capacities. But those rarely catch his attention. In general, he just loves people who are genuinely kind. Our neighbors Rex and Cathy, also our new neighbor Tucker, are all truly kind and happy people, “just enjoying life and the people they love.” He affirmed, “It’s not cliché to say that’s where the riches are.”

What would you say to Jocelyn, if you could reach her? “It’s okay. We understand. We love you. We just want you home.”  He elaborated gently that he would not tell her we expect her to live here, just that we want her back in our life. She is greatly missed.

Which of your ancestors would you like to sit down and interview?  “Probably knowing what I know now… Victor.” Victor Goddard was Brandy’s maternal great-grandfather, a small town Oklahoma entrepreneur during the civil rights movement who famously passed away on Halloween. Victor was known for never showing leniency to children learning to play checkers, a tradition his great-grandson keeps to this day. “Well, he just had such a colorful although not good history that as a kid who didn’t understand, I’d love to ask him why on some things and see if you can separate fiction from fact or family story. From that I just mean he was at some pretty pivotal historic moments of mankind. He wasn’t just the old man playing checkers I knew.”

Friends, I cannot wait to get part three ready. It’s my favorite. He’s my favorite. Thank you for reading!

“Sometimes a boy’s gotta do
What a boy’s gotta do,”
~Naomi Boren
XOXOXO

scarletta jones, calf extraordinaire

On Friday, March 4th, our farm-ily changed in a wonderful, dramatic, and unplanned way.

Earlier that week, a colleague of Handsome’s told him about a little calf recently born in western Oklahoma during one of February’s worst ice storms. The calf, abandoned by an inexperienced mother, was discovered alive but partially frozen to ground. The rancher who rescued her brought her indoors to thaw out beneath blankets and in the warmth of a utility room. He and his family nursed her back to health for about three weeks, named her Scarlett for her pretty red coat, and fell hopelessly in love. Unfortunately, keeping her long term was untenable.

Fast forward to my husband hearing the heartstrings story, a gentle, chiding temptation relayed to me, one Mardi Gras party filled with upbeat declarations about raising a calf, and a tentative drive to western Oklahoma to evaluate the situation.

Here is the situation we found:

((the tiniest sweet baby))

We both fell hopelessly in love with this fragile, trusting, beautiful little creature. We had already discussed all the logistics of keeping her and helping her convalesce, and we had made valiant efforts to adjust our expectations, to temper our sheer joy at meeting her for the first time. Her frostbite injuries were pretty severe, after all, and we were told clearly that she had no guarantees of longevity.

Our agreement was to do everything in our collective power to do two things: 1) Help her heal if possible and 2) Give her a fantastic quality of life at the Lazy W for every single day that she could live.

So we memorized the rancher’s warnings and instructions. We said our happy goodbyes and shook hands too many times. And we loaded up.

We drove home with tiny little Scarlett, unbridled, riding in the extended cab backseat of a pickup, cushioned by three quilts and a rubber mat beneath. Those few hours will live in our marital memory forever. Scarlett mostly napped, but occasionally she would stand to investigate her surrounding, snoot our shoulders a bit, sniff our necks, and look out the window. She did have one little poop accident, ha! But we were prepared, and it was not a big deal. When we stopped at a gas station about halfway home, Handsome lifted her out to see if she needed to stretch her legs. She wobbled around confidently in the grass and surprised a man nearby who was walking his Labrador.

When we got back to the farm and disembarked, Klaus saw her and lost his ever-lovin-mind. Rest assured that he was as gentle as we knew he would be. Scarlett met him willingly then wandered around the chicken coop and even gave a few jumps and skips after that long ride. We were ecstatic. I took that teeter totter frolic as a sign that she was happy to be here with us.

The next few days were a beautiful, effervescent adventure of farm-ily Love, pure and simple.

((warm, frothy bottle suds))

We mixed formula bottles and discussed with measured intensity the very most perfect temperature they should be and the very most perfect method we should use for achieving that temperature. We crafted little hay-and-blanket nests atop soft yoga mats (she slept in the garage near us for a few nights) and found new and improved ways to make her comfortable every day, depending on the changing weather. We watched and sanitized her wounds carefully and were terrified the first day on of them split open. We spent quiet time with her, sang to her, took photos of Every. Little. Thing. And texted each other things like, “She just pooped so much!” or “She’s awake and happy!” or “She just sucked on my hand so hard it cracked my knuckles!”

Handsome arranged one of our security cameras on her pen, and one day he checked on her remotely so many times I joked that he should have just stayed home and claimed Family Medical Leave Act, as if we had a newborn baby. Ha.

((scarlett resting near the earliest daffodils))

Speaking of my husband, I must credit him for doing so many of the difficult jobs to keep Scarlett healthy. He has given her the antibiotic injections and done the wound dressings. He has physically carried her in his arms, even as she has gained a considerable amount of weight (which is a big, happy victory, of course!). He has done the unnerving research and talked to vets and ranchers with similar experiences and wisdom to draw on. It has been this man’s ongoing, loving effort that has made Scarlett’s first month with us so thoroughly sound and well informed. I know that every effort is being made to help her, and I know we are making every decision day to day with Love at the center.

He also shares bottle duty once in a while.

((she follows us around her pen for a bottle))

Gradually, Scarlett has grown accustomed to our feeding time rituals and responds lusciously. She has grown so cozy with Klaus that she often milk-smears his great torso and snuzzles his face. Once she tried to nurse his German Shepherd snoot, which absolutely terrified him. Scarlett has explored the herb garden and rested with our earliest daffodils. She has listened to me read books aloud and done yoga with me in the clover on especially warm days. She has gained WEIGHT, as mentioned above. She watches the bachelors cruise past and investigates cats when they approach nervously. I have watched her placidly watching the sky so many times, it reminds me to do the same. Her outdoor habitat includes a partially enclosed wooden shelter filled with hay. When she is done eating or tired of playing, she calmly beelines straight “home.” One day we had her on the opposite side of that shared garden wall, and she beelined toward the space, aimed at her unseeable pen, which we took to mean she was done playing. She sleeps contentedly there and emerges at will to sit in the sun or, as she did this weekend, watch the moon wax on a clear night. She is her own person, and we love it.

One month. (Thirty four days, by the time I post this.) We might have only enjoyed a few days with her. Along the way any number of things could have brought on infection or pain so great we could not justify keeping her for ourselves. Or something else terrible. We have known all along that every day was borrowed, but we have been given a full, gorgeous month with this sweet baby, and we are so thankful.

((as I snapped this selfie she reached up and licked my phone))

There is so much to celebrate. Scarlett fills our farm with such a new dimension of innocence and Life Force, it’s miraculous. Her appetite is strong, allowing her to take on thousands of calories useful for healing and growing. She has remained infection-free despite so many open wounds. And she is bright, alert, curious about the world, and extravagantly affectionate. She appears, in every way we can perceive it, to be one hundred percent pain free. She even vocalizes happily!

About two weeks into her new Lazy W career, Scarlett moo’d! She moo’d a lovely moo. She has a deep, warm, resonant voice that totally caught me by surprise the first time I heard it. I texted my husband, updated my parents and siblings via group chat, and probably put in on Facebook, I don’t remember. It was so exciting to hear her musical voice just for a moment, and several times since then both Handsome and I have heard it and delighted in it.

((scarlett exploring the dormant herb garden))

Everything about having her here is a wonder and a delight, but there are still serious concerns. Scarlett’s frostbite injuries are healing, but as with any kind of healing that has meant a few steps forward and a few steps back. The very end of her pretty tail fell off, leaving plenty of the bone-in tail for us to embellish later with fly-swishing prosthetics. Her hooves have released in bits, causing her to relearn how to balance and walk. Her flesh is sloughing off sometimes, only to grow and close again. Most upsetting, part of one of her hind legs fell off in her sleep, which we certainly knew could happen based on the hardest line of frostbite, and we believe the same will happen with the other hind leg. But true to her spectacular survival form, Scarlett is adapting quickly. She is learning how to pivot on her bandaged hoofless leg and take careful steps, still able to stand for her bottles and navigate the grassy enclosure on her own. We do help her when she seems to need it but know that the more she does for herself, the better.

For all of these physical affects that could be absolutely horrifying, we remain grateful. She in infection free, seemingly comfortable, playful, alert and curious, ravenously hungry, and just plain sweet and scrumptious.

We are overwhelmed by all the Love flowing through this experience. We still cannot predict how much time we will have with her, but gosh our mission remains clear: To help her heal as much as possible and to give her the best possible life experience, day in and day out, for as long as we have her.

I feel like it’s going to be a long, magical life.

((scarlett catching some rays))

We want to thank all of our friends and family for praying for her. We believe in antibiotics and in focused medical care and in the actual power of Love and affection. We believe in good nutrition and sunshine and rest to heal any physical creature. Everything counts. But prayer binds it all together and amplifies every human effort. I know in my bones that prayer has tapped into Scarlett’s will to live and sparked her already lovely disposition to survive in her own beautiful way.

A dear friend of our ours said,
“I’ve never prayed for a calf, but I will.”
XOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm, april 1, 2022

Hello friends, and happy Friday to you! Spring has 100% sprung at the farm, and I am staying pretty busy these days. As usual I have more stories to share than time to write them, but how about an old fashioned Friday 5 post, just to timestamp?

(1) SCARLETT: As of today, our precious adopted calf has officially been with us for four weeks. I could tell you at least thirteen stories from every single one of those days, she has so generously filled our home with love and dimension. She has the sweetest, most trusting, most innocent spirit (with eyes to match), and her frostbite injuries don’t seem to faze her too much (more updates on her in a separate post). Happy one month at the W, Little Miss!

(2) GARDENS & PROPERTY FACELIFTS: I can say with confidence and excitement that spring has sprung here. The redbuds and fruit trees are frilled with bright, tissue paper blossoms, the tulips and daffodils are showing off their Easter best, the hydrangeas and blackberry vines have sprouted tentative little green leaves, and one room of our house is overtaken with seed trays, heat mats, and grow lights. The seed sowing, misting, watching, reorienting, and misting again has been fun. I love the rush of “new life” energy this time of year. Outdoors, besides garden cleanup and planting a few beds of leafy greens and snow peas, I have enjoyed flipping, emptying, and refilling the three compost systems as often as natural decomposition allows it. A few days ago I discovered baby snakes had hatched in one compost bin, which is always a sure sign that warmth is here to stay. Handsome has been moving sapling pine trees to a new wildflower meadow for a privacy screen, and he is reconfiguring some of the pathways and driveways leading from the gravel drive to the lawn near the yurt, hoping to make circling through easier and prettier. Also, on a whim last weekend, he painted two large garage doors glossy black, to match other accents on our house and car shop. It looks so much better, I can’t believe we didn’t do that years ago! Love the black with our turquoise front door and lots of garden color, especially right now while the Jane magnolia is in bloom.

(3) SHEPPS: Velvet and Lincoln are visiting the farm this week, and we have been having some fun! They are all aging slowly and appreciate a good nap (as pictured below), but between naps they still play and romp with lots of puppy energy. Velvet has delighted us with a brand new surge of affection for Handsome, a privilege for which he has been bargaining all these (nearly) seven years.

(4) BOOKS: Because I am elbow deep in two heftier than usual writing projects, I am not reading anything new right now. Instead, in spare moments, I am rereading chunks of The Well Gardened Mind by Dr. Sue Stuart Smith. Chapter six is especially mouthwatering, all about the culture of gardening versus farming and the value of growing things for pleasure before necessity. Gardening to thrive, in other words, not merely survive. It’s a theme popping up everywhere I look lately, and it feels important. In a few weeks we will be hosting a dinner discussion for The Book of Hope. Very excited about that.

(5) CAR SHOW: Last weekend we (meaning my husband, ha! but I did bring donuts and a picnic and keep Klaus entertained) helped our friend’s daughter and her college group host a charity car show in Edmond. It was the most beautiful day to be outdoors, and we so enjoyed seeing car show friends we hadn’t seen in a while. He trailered the Batmobile fir display, too, which is always a good time. The group did an excellent job pulling everything together, and they raised several hundred dollars for their school’s campaign to benefit the Children’s Miracle Network. Hopefully it was the first of not only their ongoing car show efforts but also our own packed car show season. We have really missed it these past two years!

Okay friends, what’s going on in your world? Are you primed and ready to grow something beautiful this year? Are you deep cleaning your house or maybe wrapping up spring break? What are you reading these days?

Thanks for checking in. See you soon for Scarlett stories and a brand new interview.

Redeem the Time
XOXOXOXO

checking in post equinox

Friends, happy springtime. We made it! Barring the very real possibility of a frosty morning here and there, Oklahoma is on the cheerful upswing towards warmth and rebirth. Today we are drinking in a much needed gentle rainfall, windows open and a cleansing breeze combing through our senses. Clover patches are overtaking the dead lawns. Trees have leaf buds dotting their naked branches. Daffodils assure us that Old Man Winter had his rightful turn and is once again retreating.

Gardeners everywhere are either tending tray after tray of seedlings in their warmest interior rooms or already raking clean their flower beds and ruminating over their raised gardens for planting this year’s treasures. Will food prevail in 2022, to combat the price of groceries, or will more people grow flowers to celebrate a return to life and liberty? How will you pursue your gardening happiness?

((basil sprouts indoors, grown from last year’s seed))

For me, the answer is both, with a heavy lean to all things kitchen. I am also very excited to be actively mentoring a few friends plus Jessica and Alex for a big round of first time garden growers. This is a life pleasure I never knew to anticipate! Maybe the only thing more fun than growing my own garden is helping loved ones grow theirs.

I hope you’ll tune in again in the next few days. I have some stories to share about Miss Scarlett, our rescue calf. I have been sharing quite a bit about her on Facebook and Instagram, but right here on the blog will be a fun place to record more detailed updates for posterity. I also have a brand new interview to share, this one not about Pandemic, and the subject is our very own Handsome, aka BW, aka Farm Daddy, aka Director and Sir and brother and friend to so many. My husband!! I am so excited for this project, but I want it to be clean and sooth when I share it.

Until then, I will be writing stories and potting up seedlings, cleaning oak-leaf-filled garden beds and scrubbing dirty concrete floors. Feeding chickens and filling compost boxes, definitely making bottles for an unbelievably sweet baby cow. Keeping Klaus entertained but not reading much, not this week. In spare moments I have been rereading highlights from The Well Gardened Mind and drawing all kinds of fresh inspiration from that. I’ll find a new book once these two writing projects are complete.

((scarlett and her milk bubbles mouth))

What are you up to this week?

“The return of spring each year
can be endlessly relied on,
and in not dying when we die, we have a sense
of goodness going forward.
This is the garden’s most enduring consolation.”
~Dr. Sue Stuart Smith
The Well Gardened Mind
XOXOXOXO

the thank you habit that helps me

For the past several days I have been employing an old standby habit, something that felt awkward at first but then got me through a crisis when my girls were toddlers, and these recent days it has felt luscious. I call it the Thank You Habit: While still lying in bed, in the dark, before speaking to anyone or even checking the time, before my feet hit the carpeted floor, I start silently saying thank you for as much as I can think of.

I let my mind float from person to person in my life and say thank you for them, then thank you for every modern convenience and insane material comfort we have, for the specific problems we overcame the day before and for the satisfying goals we met, thank you for the food I know is in the kitchen waiting to be prepared (and for the coffee that is probably brewing automatically at that moment), for the animals outside who trust me to meet their daily needs and for the supplies I have available to make my job so pleasant.

I say thank you for the hundreds of miracles we have witnessed over the years, as they come randomly to mind (these will gain momentum if you allow them to!), and thank you for the miracles still on their way. Thank you for my husband’s job which provides not just abundance in the practical sense but also abundance for the state of Oklahoma, for the people on his team, and for him as a person who was born to do this work and much more. Thank you that both of my girls are breathing and have hope, beauty and spiritual gifts to develop, despite their intense grief. I say thank you that both of my parents are alive and nearby, and that I enjoy true adult friendships with every single one of my siblings. These are blessings that only few of my friends have, and the older I get the more I see them as wild, amazing gifts.

thick night snow, moonglow, & a flashlight path…
I believe some moments of deliberate thanksgiving
can slice through the dark just like this

Before even standing up, I say thank you to God for the day ahead, for the problems we will inevitably face, because I know He has help available, and I know that in facing them we always emerge stronger. I tell Him how excited I am to see what kind of sunrise he has designed that day (I imagine Him staying up all night like an artist feverishly painting, waiting to display His new work), and thank you for what I will learn or enjoy on my run, and for what random surprises might happen. Thank you for the colorful fresh eggs our hens will lay. Thank you for the phone calls and texts with loved ones I might receive or make, thank you for the many people my sister will help that day and for the students at school and just as much as my mind will collect. Thank you for every hour coming, for every scrap of grace I will be afforded in the new day. Thank you for the near misses and close calls, for crises averted (there are many, you know).

This is just paving the way ahead with generous rivers of heartfelt gratitude, a way of attaching my day and my mind to the best possible outcomes.

This habit may sound goofy or trite, but I promise you it will feel smoother and more natural the more you practice it. After a couple of days, it tends to give me a glowy buoyancy, an inner sense of expectation that good things actually are coming. After this predawn ritual, I often catch myself throughout the rest of that day taking mental notes, “Oohh, tomorrow morning you can say thank you for that! That was cool.” This thought of course just sparks a midday thank you fest, which feels wonderful.

What this habit does not do is perfectly insulate me from dark thoughts or bad attitudes, for slipping emotionally from faith into fear. I am still susceptible to all of these errors and more; but the ongoing habit of saying thank you can even permeate this very real part of life: “Thank you for this frustrating challenge, thank you for this important relationship that may not come easily to me right now, but I know you are growing me here. Thank you for this deep pain, because it shows met how deeply I feel love, and it reminds me to be more loving. Thank you for the dreary landscape that makes me crave color, because I know you have built in this season of rest for a purpose, and I know this appetite for new life will help me enjoy springtime so much more. Thank you for this anger that awakens my protectiveness, and thank you for absorbing it cooling me down before I lashed out.”

If you try this one day and find your mind blocked or your words jammed up, or maybe you are in such abject pain that you cannot fathom a sincere thank you, I believe in my heart that is okay, too. This is not meant to be a saccharine exercise. I encourage you to try privately thinking only the words thank you a few times in a row, with no expectations or embellishments, and breathe deeply and say it again, while you are still in bed. Just rest for a moment longer before lunging desperately and painfully into your day. Whatever you face next, you have taken control of your energy for a moment. You have set the tone.

You know this drill, friends. We all know it in different expressions.

I just wanted to share my version as this brand new year takes hold, because the daily, hourly, private practice has helped me tremendously. My husband and I are facing some mammoth stressors lately, as I know you certainly are, and we are still enduring the same family heartaches as ever, still praying and watching for signs and still hoping for the next homecoming. Saying thank you ahead of time keeps me both tempered and lively. It keeps me happily tuned into good news, instead of staying vigilant, waiting for the next shoe to drop; and it helps me feel like the Universe is wired to my advantage, if that makes sense. That feeling that God is on your side, as silly as it may seem, works wonders. It magnetizes you for more goodness, and (at least for me) it sums up how it feels to trust God, to look Him straight in the eyes and willingly be held by His absolute goodness.

I heard a gorgeous interview that I will share in better ways soon, but for today, within the conversation the speaker shared a meditation:

“You are loved, you are held, you are guided, and you are never alone.”

Thank you for that assurance!