Today, November 1, is not only a day marked to commemorate all saints, those known & unknown, but this is also the first day of what I think is our month. This month unifies many of the ideals of the Kyrie Foundation. November is a month of gathering, when hands are joined in family prayer, when animals begin to huddle & hunker for winter and when cornicopias burgeon with blessings. November is month of gratitude, a thankful time to note all that we've been given, all that we've endured and all that we hope to come. November is a month of giving, giving time, giving extra patience, giving food, giving a second chance, giving warmth and giving thanks.
A whole 30 days to honor gathering, gratitude & giving. Sounds pretty saintly to me. ;)
I'm thankful for November. What are you thankful for today?
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I'm thankful for this site! A daily reminder to humble me. I'm thankful for the warm thoughts that it brings of family and friends and love.
I'm thankful that it reminds me to call or write these people and tell them how much they mean to me.
I'm thankful for gratitude! It seems like such a simple concept yet sometimes I get bogged down with "life", become negative, and forget how simple it is. And when I express my gratitude to my father in heaven my heart changes and my attidude improves almost immediately. With grateful hearts our days are brighter and we are able to endure the rough roads we come upon.
I received this email today and it made me thankful for the hands of Lacie and Jordan that nursed and cared for Kyrie:
GRANDMA'S HANDS
Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.
When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.
Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said in a clear voice strong.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, g randma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to her.
"Have you ever looked at your hands," she asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?"
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.
Grandma smiled and related this story:
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
"They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.
"They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.
"They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shaken in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken,dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
"These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home.
When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.
I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
When you receive this, say a prayer for t he person who sent it to you, and watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue praying for one another.
Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both.
Passing this on to one not yet considered a friend is something Christ would do.
-- Author Unknown
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Growing old is inevitable; growing up is optional.
God Is bigger than all our fears....our Hope is in The Lord.
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