pictured words

This photo is not a well-focused, balanced, artistic photo. It is just my snapshot
of homemade chicken noodle soup, made by my super caring husband.
It is one thing I have to be thankful for while I am sick on my favorite week of the year.
And there are so many others.
My cozy home, with the Christmas tree up, and a comfortable recliner from which to enjoy it.
My soft lavender robe, and just-as-soft tissues for my nose.
A family member who will be doing a Thanksgiving meal “porch drop” for Keith and me,
and other family members who offered the same
and friends and students who have offered food and help and loving words of encouragement
and who check in on me just because they are selfless souls who care deeply
and a doctor able to see me on the same day I called
and insurance to pay the doctor and the medicine
and a comfortable spare bedroom for Keith to sleep in so I don’t keep him awake with my cough
and WhatsApp to keep in touch for free with my daughter in India
and the amazing, gentle care she is receiving for a herniated disc, from grandmotherly women
and doctors making daily home visits to the room she is renting from these women
and the ease of heart it helps me feel while she is there alone and in pain and without my help
and the Father of All who is no less there than He is here
and the vast array of birds and fun critters outside my huge windows that let in all the light
and loving souls in my life who share their beautiful words and prayers and sentiments and lives
and parents who passed on, but left themselves in unspeakable ways right here in my heart
and children who struggle, but l.o.v.e. in all the ways afforded to them, and who I proudly call my own
and granddaughters who give joy in ways I never could have imagined
and their daddy who is not just an in-law to me
and music
and poetry
and books
and life
and Jesus in the nativity beneath my tree, and His saving cross at the top
and the Word of God
and the Lamb of God
and the love of God
and no period, because there is no end