Daily Gratitude
Today I'm shining because I'm thankful for:
- Generosity. Last week I started a "thank you" jar. On small slips of paper, I am noting unexpected gifts and gestures of kindness. It's amazing how many notes are already in the jar.
- Safe travels. Last night I returned home from a lovely weekend with my sister, who lives about 150 miles from me. As I pulled into my garage, I was struck by how often I travel and take for granted my accident-free trips. Thank God for His protection and blessing!
- The quiet of the morning. I love the early hours of the day. I especially love Monday mornings.
What do you do when you wait in line?
Brazen headlines of titillating gossip plaster the rag mags line the cashier’s lane. The captions insist on being noticed as I inch my shopping cart forward. One particularly eye-catching header gets my attention, “Farrah Abraham propositions an intrigued Charlie Sheen, shows off boob job.”
“Is there any other time in my life,’ I shake my head as I ask myself, “that I willingly endure craziness such as this?” Then there’s this tidbit, “The Fast Diet lets people eat whatever they want, but only five days a week.” Sounds great, but isn’t there a saying that says if it sounds too good to be true, than it probably is? And, I’m so glad to know this, “An eyeball licking trend in Japan is spreading pinkeye; teachers unearthed the trend at school.” Seriously, who reads this stuff?
The words on the tabloid covers are large and colorful. “Gosh,” I think, “I’d never buy this junk.” Yet, I’ve pulled a copy of People Magazine from the rack. As I guiltily leaf through the glossy pages, I am treated to images of plastic surgery disasters, enhanced cleavage, dimpled bottoms, gala gowns, hang-over tips, and the lasted gossip about Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux.
Every few minutes I push my cart forward. I’m no longer anxious about the wait. My mind is lulled by stories of beautiful people and the lives they lead. The magazine has pulled me in to a kind of zone especially created for those waiting in line. Soon the screaming kid and the yelling mom fade from my awareness. Even the woman ahead of me who has a mountain of return items doesn’t faze me.
I feel woozy and a bit dazed when my cart finally reaches the conveyor belt. It’s as if I’ve overdosed on sucrose. Snapping the magazine shut, I quickly return it to its place. Now that the waiting is over it’s time to return to reality, time to be clear-headed, time to be practical.
I think to myself, “My next visit to Megamart, I’m going to pick a longer line.”
