




At what age does one learn thankfulness? Just as we try to model and teach empathy (that’s a WHOLE other topic) how often do we stop and recognize that which we have-not what is missing. A friend and I were visiting about counting blessings. How do you begin? Intention is required. It might require something to knock you off your feet, pull the rug out from under you, or turn over your apple cart. Even worse than a jarring moment, it might take a severe loss in your life. Haven’t we all been there?
The last few days collected some tears. I thought a LOT about freedom on the 4th of July. In my normal fashion I started researching our nation’s history. The anthem and its writer, Francis Scott Key, became a focus. For each line of the anthem I thought of its application today. The highs and the lows in history, of our country and our own lives, can either leave you feeling thankful or bitter. I have the freedom to choose. Simply, what do you choose?

As my twin approaches her birthday tomorrow I type with gratitude. Another year. Another day. Another hour. Another minute. Life is not the same. However, my dreams are unchanged. I STILL long to live a quieter life of writing and volunteering–to work for a cause and hide behind the scenes to propel and promote others–to better my health and actively pursue the goodness of people and nature-to provide time to my family (I AM supposed to be taking care of THEM!)-to complete another little book and visit students-and the most important, to make memories with my kids and grandkids. God, you’ve always proved faithful. You will always get the glory. I am thankful.
Have I told you all how thankful I am for each of you? I’m on day 7 of my 2nd round of Chemotherapy. Ding, ding, ding! There’s my alarm! For a few days I felt very lousy. Didn’t K.L. Hale state last year to “allow the the pain to propel and promote my persistence”? Specifically, my glucose levels are an issue. More testing will hopefully result in a plan of management. There are many appointments (I’m enjoying my rides with my Momma, family, and friends-I’m grateful for them). In the past I could balance reading, writing, and doing other tasks. I’ve always been intentional and paced. This is different. I’m not always certain how my body will react. I miss reading blogs on a regular basis. At this exact moment I am beginning to feel fatigued (and the 108 heat index makes me THANKFUL for air conditioning-let’s stop and say a prayer for those who don’t have air conditioning or even a home…so sad!). Cancer impacts 1 out of 3 of us. You, or a family member or friend, have experienced what I’m talking about–I know you understand. My twin and I have completed much research on neuroendocrine cancer. I’ve joined an internet support group. I’m learning so much about others across the country that are LIVING with this disease. Through the Neuroendocrine Research Foundation, I have found stories that have touched my heart. Each link uncovers a new discovery. There are over 35 resources in my toolbox now. I’m surrounding myself with peace, rest, and good nutrition (and TONS of family pictures and meaningful memories). I FEEL cradled in the Good Shepherd’s arms. Living with intention, in the moment, is a full-time job–actually, it’s paid me back more than I deserve. Thank you for the prayers as I navigate my new life. How can I pray for you? I see you. I know you. I understand. I hope today, tomorrow, and each day after, you speak your thankfulness to a loved one here or THE ONE that loves you more than anyone-no matter what. ๐

Our trusty Subaru’s met on the desolate snow-packed road. We waved to one another and I followed. Slowly we continued the trek off the main road. Was ice beginning to form in my GUT? My mental strength seemed to fade with my cell signal. Then a left, a right, another right, and three cattleguard crossings proved the hand-written mapโs preciseness. There it stood. The Hickory Hill Cabin of Red Rock Retreat (a 130-acre horse farm where the world famous โDancing White Stallionsโ of Vienna, Austria are raised). Despite the deep love I have for cabins, my enthusiasm made a run to the hills while I parked my Subie at the โbottomโ. Forcing a smile, I opened the car door to greet my friends (who were all prepared to โunloadโ Finn and me). Barely stepping out I was slipping on the skating rink below me. My trekking pole was in the back of the car (along with food to feed more than just our crazy crew!). Finleyโs three little legs gripped the ground better than my two. Laughing, a friend grabbed me as we tried to make our way up the steep hill. Then two or maybe 3 more had to help? Oh my. For the 2nd time in two weeks, I felt limited. Helpless. Their trekking poles were lined up like soldiers on the front porchโฆoh great! Iโm a lost cause!
Seeing the fireplace, the overall ambiance of the cabin, and my little bedroom with my patchwork quilt like Laura Ingalls Wilder DID make me smile. But as we stood around the table sharing and putting things up I blurted, โI should just go home!โ Tears were flowing. โYou guys donโt understand! I CANโT fall! I canโt have another injury! Iโm useless! I canโt even walk up the path to the door!โ (All the โI cantโsโ). My neck, back, foot, hipโฆthey all have their great days, and this was not one of them. Theyโve carried me to peaks I never dreamed I could reach and have kept me, at times, from walking in my own house. I experienced my first rapid meltdown of the icy situation. My first ever in our adventures together. IMMEDIATELY this is what I heard โWe have you!โ โWe wonโt let you fall!โ โWe will not put you at risk!โ โYou have us to help you!โ They shared of their own falls. My heart melted. How blessed was I? My trekking pole got placed by the soldiering ones. In that exact moment my uncertainty unraveled. Friendship quickly squelched my squabble. Together, with our poles for walking, we piled in the car for 4-wheel exploring.
In 2003 I bought a hiking book of Arkansas written by Tim Ernst (.https://timernst.com/). It was my first of several. Tim is known as the Arkansas Wilderness Photographer. The Ozark Mountains are his backyard and most hikers and photographers in our area know his impeccable reputation! His books are essentials for Ozark Mountain hikers! He and his gifted artist wife, Pam, were hosting an Open Gallery THAT DAY. Would it be open because of the ice and snow-covered roads? Letโs go! We continued more in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere to their road. There was his sign. ย He welcomed us, and Finley, to his gallery. The road had just opened up two hours earlier. We were the first (perhaps only?) visitors that day. Awe-stricken we respectfully and admirably viewed the spectacular displays. The limited crowd allowed rich conversations with Tim. To support them, and for our own desires, we each left with a piece of giftedness. Tim and Pam, like any artists, have limited editions. On March 1st, 1972, the Buffalo River became our nationโs first National River and several limited editions depict this celebration. My tribe and I also bought matching shirts to commemorate the birthday.
After a stop for carrots (HUGE ONES!) it was time to high tail it to the horses. Atop the beautiful, snow-covered hills, they galloped towards us; my giddiness came galloping too! The carrots were a hit. Arenโt horses the most amazing creatures? They nibbled on us and couldnโt get close enough. I thought of the time I rode a mule with my friend, Nicole, in the mountains of Montana. For a moment time stood still. When it was time to leave, the horses cleverly circled the car- we werenโt for sure how long we might need to stay with them. ๐ That evening, after a delicious meal around the table, we sat by the fireplace. Pictures and memories made. The sun melted most of the ice the next day and the journey home was perfect.









Have mercy, March. You’re here and we need you. Melt the ice that freezes hope. Extinguish the hate here and far away- to our friends in Ukraine, have mercy. Spring, we see you. May we find wonder in our day-to-day–our FREEDOM, family, the smile and laughter of a baby, birds chirping, sunrises, sunsets, the sky, good coffee, opportunities, food in our refrigerator, our pets, and our memories. How do you cling to faith in times like these? You just do or don’t. I choose “do”.



