blessed.

What have I done to deserve such tremendous blessings? Even the very structure of that sentence reveals my misconstrued perception of grace. What have I done? ppph. Nothing - nothing deserving of such grace or such a life or my family or my job or my memories which I hold so dear.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. With a heart full to overflowing I can be thankful for all that my life holds right now. And the God who gives abundantly most definitely deserves my thanks.

Sarah has been home this week and we spent the majority of the day prepping food with my mom for tomorrow's feast! Christmas music blaring, us singing our hearts out and sampling the desserts...it was like a scene from a holiday movie.

blessed. so very very blessed.

My heart must be full. How can it be more full?

I know that most kids would kill for some of the memories that I've soaked up over the last 23 years, and I'm struggling to reconcile all that I have with all that they don't. I hope that doesn't seem arrogant because that's not how I mean it - I simply couldn't help but stop and think in the midst of my blissfully blessed day, that most of the students I work with will never know the joy of Thanksgiving prep-day or silly jamming out to Christmas tunes. It may sound dramatic, but it's reality. For some reason I keep thinking of them all the time. Crying out for attention, absorbing blame for situations they haven't caused and taking responsibility for the ones they love every day. Those are my kids. I wish with all of my heart that I had the opportunity to rescue each one of them - to create memories sweet as honey to carry them through a lifetime of holidays to come.

So how? How does anyone infiltrate a world of despair with the hope that comes with knowing love - true, genuine, heartfelt love. I'm at a bit of a loss, left to pouring out love as lavishly as I can from a distance and praying frequently because I know the One who rescues and pours out love from the depths of His heart. There is joy to be found in the midst of the darkness. May the Author of joy Himself reveal it.