Six degrees and thankfulness

Six degrees. That's what the thermometer on the car read this morning as I zipped up our lane to meet the bus with Ally.  Six degrees.  It's not even Thanksgiving.  An inch of snow covers the gardens.  A few untamed remnants of crusty brown weeds (and seeds) poking their defiant heads above the cold white blanket.  These will eventually succumb to the winds, wet, and decay.

Seventy two.  That's what my indoor thermometer on the desk in the living room reads.  Toasty warm.  Snug as a bug.  Grateful that our outdoor wood burning furnace is puffing away....heating the water and keeping the house comfortable.

The house is quiet.  The hum of the refrigerator.  The creak of the house.  The wind of the heater blowing. The tick of the rocking chair as I glide back and forth.  But overall quiet.  The skies are wintry gray and the bare bone trees are shaking in the gusty breezes.  Few leaves remaining except the mulberry who clings to those last rust-colored crunchy remains.  Light snow blurs the horizon.

I have a pause.  A pause in the chaos which has been my life in the last month.

A welcomed, restful, quiet, peaceful pause.  Unexpected.  As if it snuck up on me without any warning. Sigh.

The perpetual drone of grading papers, answering emails, creating exams, interacting with students.... all activities which I have typically enjoyed.... has become arduous.  Laborious.  Students repeatedly complaining or asking questions which they already had access to the answers, if only they had read. Papers with the same mistakes over and over again in spite of my correction.  Plagiarizing. Scheduling and organizing student on-campus days.  Details.  Final clinical exams.  More details. Feeling criticized.  Regardless of preparation and input. Weary of pressing on.  My stress bucket is full.  I am eating poorly and not active or exercising.  I read, read, and read paper after paper after paper. Scrambling like a rodent on a wheel cage trying to catch up.

And then finally, I did.

The papers were graded.  The exams readied.  The evaluations posted.  The discussions interacted with. The face-to-face exams completed.  Only a few more phone evaluations and some weekly assignments before the semester is completed.  Whew!

And when I get a chance to breathe... like now.... I remember.  I remember that weariness is caused by treading without purpose or direction.  My focus nearsighted.... myopic.  Failing to recall the purpose of this trek.  Looking at the hurdles, the difficulties rather than gazing at the goal.

"One thing I have asked of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple." (Psalm 24:4)

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

A heart of ungratefulness is a poison far worse than any physical ailment.  Without a heart, a life, of reflection on the grace and mercy of the Lord, life is wearisome.  Arduous.  Painful. Deeply hopeless. An ungrateful, un-thankful heart is a cancer waiting to spread its metastasizing, menacing, and malignant fingers into any and all nearby.

Oh, how I have failed to give thanks!

Eucharisteo.

Today's Journey Joys:  quiet restful reflective opportunities, washing machines for dirty ol' gloves and mittens, blue skies peeking through wintry cloud cover, outside cats all snuggled together on top of worn out pillows in the igloo, cleansers to scrub away the ring on the tub,  turtlenecks keeping my skinny little neck warm, students who have learned, opportunities to demonstrate grace and love, continued recovery from cancer.