Like a pestle against mortar, God has been grinding away on me with the whole gratitude thing.

I’m embarrassed to admit it but sometimes I forget how incredibly blessed I am and how I really don’t have much to complain about.

Can I get an amen? I’m pretty sure all of us who reside in the first world struggle with this at some point.

Baskets of laundry means we have plenty of clothing and a house full of people we adore.

The dirty dishes mean I have provided physical nourishment for those I love the most.

The ridiculously high volume of noise that is constant in my home (except when those responsible are sleeping) mean there is joy and laughter being had.

My insane exhaustion level at the end of the day is proof I’m giving all I’ve got.

Yet I often complain about these things instead of twisting it to the joy side.

Somewhere in 1,000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp’s super bestseller, is something like this: Gratitude for what we have right here, right now fosters trust in God. We see the good and we know He’s taking care of us.

Trust in God is the pathway to pure and unadulterated joy.

Joy unspeakable.

I’m now committing to finding the joy unspeakable right around me each Thursday. I’ll post a photo of the everyday mundane of joy and hopefully, this will inspire you to look for the same.

Those with blogs, I’m praying over making this a link-up. I would love to hear your thoughts!

So here’s the first Joy Unspeakable . . .

joy unspeakable

This, my friends, is the pile of dirt I swept up just this morning. It’s one day’s worth of dirt in our house.

There’s some kale from last night’s dinner, a dinosaur that will grow when placed in water, a bread tie, a rubber band.

And loads of dirt. It’s a mudbath in our back yard.

But this dirt pile teems with life. It tells the story of what happens in our kitchen, of Nerf battles extending from the front door, through the house, to the back door, to the back yard. Of neighbor kids playing with mine and loud guffaws and warm cookies on the run from the bad guys.

Life is happening here.

One day, I’ll come home and the dirt piles will be gone. My house will be neat and tidy and look like I want it to look now but never does.

And I know I will long for these days, the days happening right now.

Precious days of exhaustion that make me unsure I’ll make it to tomorrow and inevitably always do. Precious days of squabbles over who lost the caps to the cap gun and long stories about Webkinz and silly jokes. Precious days of big splashes in the tub and Batman towels.

It’s joy unspeakable.

What’s bringing you joy unspeakable these days?


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