For the six pairs of shoes we as a family had available to give away when a need was presented. (Check out giveshoes.org – awesome organization, a cause after my own heart; our church is collecting 1,000 pairs on their behalf this holiday season.)
For little boys who are equally delightful and maddening, sometimes in the very same hour. Minute. Second.
Hot coffee, steaming tea, and the cool morning air in which to enjoy them.
Being able to eat sushi, falafel, dolmas, pupusas, and aloo gobi, all in the same week.
Living in the country where I have the right, and am encouraged to use it, to give my vote and know it really means something.
That we have a God who is bigger than our nation’s debt, my worry, Ryan Woods’ illness, Scooby’s mission report, and every other big, and little, concern in the universe. And that He actually cares about them all.
The last days of warm sunshine, bare arms and sandaled feet before we settle in for California’s blessedly short “winter.”
For my country, my beautiful country, with its freedoms and its problems – all of it. I tried to make my kids understand this morning that the entire world was watching us today – it’s a big day when this country elects a leader – and the whole world wants to know. They have no idea, they don’t get it, but someday they will and maybe they’ll remember that conversation we had in the car.
Just like I remember my very first vote. It was 1976 and Jimmy Carter was running against Gerald Ford. I voted for Carter, because he was smiling and Ford was kinda frowny-faced. But then again, my criteria was different then. I was three.