Gratitude.

I have worked since I was sixteen. Shortly after I turned seventeen, I got a job at Starbucks and worked there until this past February. I loved it (most of the time). I loved the environment; making coffee, working with friends and being able to have conversations with hundreds of customers. It was awesome. So awesome, that I was nervous about becoming a "stay-at-home wife and mama." I was afraid that I would get all stir-crazy and go nuts staying home all of the time. But I love it so much more than I ever loved working. I am so, so blessed that I am able to spend my entire day with Elliot. That I am the one who gets to soothe him when he's sad, who gets to feed him, bathe him, dress him and play with him. That every time he learns something new, I am here to witness it. That I know what every single cry he cries means. It is truly a gift from the Lord, and I take it for granted. In leu of Thanksgiving (it's a little disheartening that it takes a holiday for me to reflect) I have been thinking about all of the ways that God has faithfully and richly blessed us. I have been reflecting on this past year and how difficult and stretching it was at times, but mainly how wonderfully rich and blessed it has been. Being able to stay at home is something that God has really provided for and worked through. There were times throughout my pregnancy that Adam and I said "how in the world is this going to happen?!" But God has continually provided for us and taken care of our needs. My heart is overflowing; God is infinitely good and whether I acknowledge it or not, I am tasting his goodness everyday.




O Lord my God,

When I in awesome wonder

Consider all

The world Thy Hand hath made,

I see the stars,

I hear the rolling thunder,

Thy pow'r throughout

The universe displayed;




Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art!

How great Thou art!

Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art!

How great Thou art!





When through the woods

And forest glades I wander

I hear the birds

Sing sweetly in the trees;

When I look down

From lofty mountain grandeur

And hear the brook

And feel the gentle breeze;




And when I think,

That God, His Son not sparing;

Sent Him to die,

I scarce can take it in;

That on the Cross,

My burden gladly bearing,

He bled and died

To take away my sin.





When Christ shall come,

With shouts of acclamation,

And take me home,

What joy shall fill my heart!

Then I shall bow

In humble adoration

And there proclaim,

"My God, how great Thou art!"