What is the point of “One Thousand Gifts”?

The morning came faster than I wanted. I heard Natalie’s little footsteps toddling on the hardwood floors, and I knew I needed to get up before Maxwell woke up. He woke last night, burning with fever, and I rushed to take his temperature and offer him some water. I had just fallen asleep, but I knew the small cry he was releasing from his body in the middle of the night was an important one, so I got up to tend to him.

Thankfully, gratefully, Marigold didn’t wake up throughout the night — and neither did Natalie. Some nights the two of them switch off with who is awake during the night, and I feel a little like Miss Clavel from Madeline as I rush down the hall to see who needs me. I can feel Marigold will be ready for me soon, but for now she’s content.

This morning, as I settled Natalie on the couch, I pulled the living room curtains aside and looked past our covered front porch.

Fog. It’s a blanketing our street this morning.

Fog and fallen leaves and trash bins at the curb waiting to be picked up around lunchtime. Green hedges and yellow leaves sitting atop. It’s a sight to remember, one Los Angeles could never offer.

Inside, my robe matches my sleep pants, and ironically, Natalie’s milk cup. Pink. Lots of pink in our home.

My coffee cup sits near me and I let out a long exhale. My head hurts; I could use more sleep. But that’s not something for me to dwell on this morning. I know I can take a nap in a few hours once the kids are tucked in bed after lunch, but I try not to think about that too much. For now, I’m awake with our middle child and I’m enjoying this moment with her. And really, it’s not all that early to be awake ;)

Warm, creamy coffee. I let it wash down my throat and comfort my weary body.

I think about last night, how I sat at my sewing machine and watched the fabric move under my fingers and come out the other side with tiny stitches a quarter inch away from the edge of the fabric. I released the presser foot and cut the thread, set the fabric aside and grabbed another piece in one fluid motion. Repetition. Rhythmic. Familiar. I could do this with my eyes closed.

I think about the joy book I’ve been reading, the list I’ve been making, the joy I’ve felt multiplied. It seems like this new concept is the only reason I’m able to be awake right now, yet happy. Having spent three days away from Zack while on a hunting trip, having been awakened many times many nights in a row from a hungry baby and a feverish boy. I think about how writing down my joy moments is a welcomed change of perspective. Counting up to one thousand gifts, even though I’m only a few pages in, has already refreshed our home. I feel so refreshed.

Just like the fallen leaves that pile outside in the street and atop green hedges, this list is such a welcomed changed of perspective for me.

It’s a blanket of grace, and it’s got me completely covered this morning as I yawn.