Day 219, August 7

In earlier posts, I've written about my Mormon ancestry. Early Latter-day Saints were driven from their homes by mobs, watched their temple destroyed and their prophet martyred, and traveled across an inhospitable land to settle. In the Salt Lake Valley, they were finally able to practice their faith.

Mormons were not the only religious group to suffer persecution. The Amish and other sects also faced ill treatment. The tenet of religious freedom, one of the basic principles upon which America was founded, was denied to many in past centuries.

Today, Sunday, I can go to church without fear. I can proclaim my faith in public forums such as this. I can practice my religion as I see fit.

What a blessing this is, one, which, I'm ashamed to admit, that I do not always appreciate. Could I have held to my faith while I watched my husband being tarred and feathered? Could I have stood by my beliefs while being threatened by mobs? Could I have sacrificed everything to move to a barren desert?

I don't know.

So, for today, I am grateful for religious freedom.

Day 218, August 6

Too often, our society seems intent on idolizing poor behavior. A quick glimpse of a television program entitled Bridezillas left me shaking my head in bemusement. When did rudeness, selfishness, and downright meanness become a cause for celebration?

My husband says that I don't get out in the real world much. The fact is, I like my world just as it is. We have a young family in our church who epitomizes generosity. This past week, I called the mother to ask if I could hire her children to do some yard work. After talking with her children, she said that they couldn't take pay for serving someone else.

This is not an isolated incident with this family. They give of themselves to everyone, neighbors, church members, friends. They perform their acts of service with quiet grace, never drawing attention to themselves. In fact, they go out of their way to avoid the spotlight.

What a pleasant contrast to media superstars whose so-called charitable acts are accompanied by a fanfare of trumpets. The Savior warns against this when He counsels to do our good deeds in secret.

(As I re-read what I've just written, I realize that I've jumped from Bridezillas to the Savior. What can I say? My mind makes odd leaps at times.)

So, for today, I am grateful for people like my friends who do their good acts in secret.

Day 217, August 5

I've mentioned in earlier posts that life has thrown our family some curves this year. We are not alone. Nearly everyone I know is going through some kind of crisis, whether it be family problems, illness, caring for an elderly parent, or just struggling in this down economy.

Suffering through life's problems isn't fun. I grumble. I whine. I grouse. And then I start all over again. After I go through my litany of complaints, I hunker down and get to work.

What gets me through?

Faith. Family. Friends. I call them my trifecta of strength. Without them, I would surely crumble under the pressures of life. I believe that this is the Lord's plan, to give us these things, these people, to see us through the tough times and to rejoice with us during the good times.

I can't think of my faith without thinking of family and friends. And I can't think of family or friends without thinking of faith. The three are inextricably connected. Once again, the Lord has devised a perfect plan.

So, for today, I am grateful for faith, family, and friends.

Day 216, August 4

Two nights ago, our kitty, Harley, accidentally got outside. (Harley has been declawed and is a strictly indoor cat.) My sister, my husband, and I spent the next couple of hours frantically searching for her. Finally, I enlisted the neighbors' help. Mind you, this was at 11 pm.

I asked our neighbor if I could borrow a flashlight. He readily loaned it to me, then started looking for her on his own. We finally found Harley tucked away in the corner of the basement of the addition we are building. Our hearts settled. I gave Harley a stern talking-to and said a special prayer of gratitude for her safe return.

The incident made me think of our neighbors. Larry and I are not great neighbors. Though we try to be considerate, we are rather private and not very out-going. Yet our neighbors have extended themselves on our behalf.

Our next door neighbor volunteers every year to clean out our gutters. He steadfastly refuses any kind of payment. Another neighbor always asks about our children, whom he has watched grow up over the years. The list goes on.

Neighborhoods are a kind of family. Neigihbors know when there is sickness in a family, when a new baby is born, when a death has occurred. Neighbors bring in mail when one is away from home, water lawns, and watch pets.

So, for today, I am grateful for neighbors and neighborhoods.

Day 215, August 3

I started "The Gratitude Project" in an effort to remind myself (and maybe others) that no matter what life throws at us, that we all have much for which to be grateful. Despite that lofty goal, I still find myself complaining, whining, and moaning, all unattractive qualities.

Why can't I get my mind off what is wrong in my life and concentrate on what is right? When I am going to get it right? Sometimes I think, "Never." And sometimes I catch a glimmer of what I could be if I allowed the Lord into my life on a daily basis.

Too frequently, I deny Him entrance. No, I don't say aloud, "Lord, I don't want thee in my life today." But I do keep Him from letting His spirit guide me when I am selfish, when I am cruel, when I am thoughtless with the tender feelings of others.

The solution, of course, is not to be that way. It is so simple. And so hard to do. That seems a dichotomy, doesn't it? A contradiction. Part of me works to be a better person and another part works just as hard to prevent that from happening. I know I have a greater chance of being what I want to be, being what the Lord wants to be, when I let the Spirit in.

So, for today, I am grateful for those times when the Spirit finds its way into my life.

Day 214, August 2

This past Sunday, a man spoke on faith. His talk spurred me to think about my own faith. Do I have faith? Do I practice it? Do I use it to better my life and that of others? The answer is, "Sometimes."

My faith goes up and down. (A lot like my weight.) It is bolstered by the examples of others. I have been blessed with many examples of faith.

I've written in earlier posts about my Mormon ancestry, of those brave pioneers who left their homes to travel across the plains to the unknown land. Once there, they were called again to leave their homes and settle the harsh terriortory of Arizona. Their faith awes me. It humbles me. It inspires me.

More recently, I've watched dear friends forge their way through a different kind of pioneering as the husband has endured the treatment for leukemia: chemotherapy, a bone marrow transnplant, and now long months away from home so that he can be close to the hospital. Their faith has sustained them. Like my ancestors, they suffered, but they endured. And they continue to endure.

Faith does not vanquish life's problems. It is not a magic elixir. Faith is that bone-deep knowledge that we are not alone, that the Lord is at our side, even when we cannot feel Him, even when we willfully fail to acknowledge Him.

Faith does not vanquish life's problems. It is not a magic elixir. It is that bone-deep knowledge that the Lord is at our side, even when we do not feel Him, even when we willfully fail to acknowledge His presence. (Yes, to my shame, I have done that.)

So, for today, I am grateful for those who exercise their faith and inspire me to do the same.

Day 213, August 1

Yesterday was my birthday. It was one of those big birthdays, the kind with a zero on the end. I took it in my usual calm way and told people I was 29. When those knowing that I have three children older than that asked how that was possible, I explained that it was the new math. They nodded, a pitying look in their eyes and ascribed it to my advancing years.

My family and friends remembered me with cards and gifts. The greatest gift of all took me completely by surprise: my sister, Carla, flew out to be with me for the week.

I've mentioned my sister in earlier posts. She is my best friend, the other part of me, the best part of me. Those of you who have sisters know what I'm talking about. Sisters help us remember who we were, who we are, who we hope to be.

I'm fortunate to have other sisters in my friends. They make me laugh. They dry my tears. They share their problems with me and listen while I share mine with them. They are sisters of my heart.

So, for today, I am grateful for surprises. It goes without saying that I am always grateful for sisters.