When you’re out digging through the remains of a house, trying to help the resident salvage as much as they can, and one of the people you’re working with very suddenly comes down with the stomach flu, it’s very good to have peppermint oil handy in your bag.
Chocolate is pretty amazing.
But not as amazing as the fact that my husband, on a day when he had about 100,057 details to deal with, stopped on the way home from picking up the car at the mechanic to buy me dark chocolate truffles.
I’m pretty sure that for my Monday daily thankfulness post (yes, I’m a little behind…) I’m supposed to write about how thankful I am to still have a house to sleep in. Or about how great it is that people in the community are stepping up to help tornado victims. Or maybe even something sweet about people getting reunited with their pets.
All those things are true, of course… But the thing is, I didn’t get scared enough during the tornado to have an epic sense of relief afterwards. My post tornado sense on Monday was along these practical lines, “Well, we can’t get out to help with disaster relief today, so I guess I’d better try to catch up on my housework as much as I can so we’re freed up to help later when they’re letting people into the areas that need help.”
The most exciting thing that happened on Monday was that for the first time in about three weeks, I got all the clean laundry folded and put away the same day it was washed.
And I guess when you come down to it, clean laundry is just exactly as mundane and as epic as it needed to be that day.
I can’t think of a better group of people to be standing with in a mostly dark basement, hugging the wall furthest away from the windows and waiting to see if any walls or other essential parts of the building are going to blow away.
I love the fact that in an emergency situation the deacons brought the elements of the Lord’s Supper to the basement with us.
And that a power outage doesn’t diminish our ability to proceed with the fellowship meal.
I’m thankful that God made water in such a way that it becomes a shiny, slippery sheet of glisteningness when it gets really cold.
And that some crazy person figured out that we can skate across ice if we strap blades to the bottoms of our feet. (Even if this still seems like a really bad, nutty idea every time I start to get on the ice again.)
And for zambonis that make the ice back into a shiny, slippery sheet after it’s been all scratched up by those blades strapped to people’s feet. (Plus zamboni is fun to say.)
And that my husband enjoys ice skating so much that I go try it again even when I’d kind of like to wimp out. (And that he’s patient with how it takes me sooo long to start get good at this whole ‘blades strapped my feet on a slippery surface’ thing.)
Specifically, I’m thankful that my husband works at a place where they have strict policy to not send guys on business trips alone. This means if Colton, say, needs to go to a class for work in Chicago, and no one else from his office needs to go, I get to tag along on the trip!
I got to have a relaxing couple of days in a Chicago hotel, including fulfilling my lifelong ambition of working out in a hotel fitness room. (When I was a kid that sign about being 18 or older was a pesky barrier, and I guess I was just never that motivated during the travel heavy season of life. Not sure why though, because treadmills are still pretty cool.)
Today I’m thankful for 1027 consecutive nights of falling asleep next to my husband. Here’s hoping for another 28,000 or so.