Thankful

Today I can do what I couldn't do last year. This is what my gratitude looks like right now, in this instant.

There are the marginally interesting differences:

On January 14, 2005, I couldn't sit in my office in the dark, playing on myspace. There was no office. There was no dark. I could only be in the library when the library was open. There was no "my" space.

There are the joyfully victorious differences:

On January 14, 2005, I couldn't call my brother Michael in Virginia, just to chat. I didn't know his number. I didn't know he was in Virginia. I didn't know if he was still alive. I didn't know he wanted a big sister.

There are the reminders-of-how-old-I'm-getting differences:

On January 14, 2005, I couldn't come home to leftovers from the dinner I'd made the night before for my college freshman brother Thomas and his girlfriend. I had no home. Trying to cook in the dorm kitchen was utterly disheartening. Thomas was a baby in diapers.*

*Some information altered for dramatic effect

There are the powerfully life-changing differences:

On January 14, 2005, I couldn't walk freely in the reality that God is LOVE. I couldn't believe He wasn't in the habit of abandoning His children. I didn't trust He wasn't holding the threat of abandonment over my head at all times. I couldn't see He was capable of loving all of who I am. I didn't know He was That Good.

To all of these differences - in the face of the enemy's lies, as he tells me I never change, never grow, never learn, never succeed - recognizing what I didn't have, didn't see, didn't know -
I say,

"Now, I DO."