Before I had kids, here is what I would do on Sundays. First of all, I would leisurely wake up. (Why, oh why, did I not treasure those days?!?) Then I'd take my time getting dressed in some nice, actually-stylish clothes. I'd sometimes stop at a coffee shop, bringing along my Bible and journal. Then I'd grab a bagel before Sunday school, where I listened to the whole entire lesson without one interruption. After church, I'd go for a relaxing lunch with friends, read a little, take a nap, maybe take a walk...and go to bed well-rested for the week ahead.

The current Jessica (who has three young children and a husband who leads worship and is thus no help on Sunday mornings) LAUGHS at the good old days.

The irony is, this current Jessica ACTUALLY NEEDS a Sabbath.

In a world where we are conditioned to want more and complain about what we don't have, I find such solitude in giving thanks to God for the little things. I am so grateful for a God who can give me the right perspective when it can be so tempting to focus on my immediate circumstances.

In this season of thanksgiving, I'm reminded how important it is to share how thankful I am in everything. In sharing our gratitude we honor Christ and encourage one another to live a life bent towards Him. He is the very reason we have anything to be thankful for. Today I am sharing 20 of the many reasons I am thankful.

20 Reasons I am Thankful

It was the last thing I expected her to say as we were standing in the lobby. 

I really wish I knew how to find a mentor.

She seemed like the type that would be surrounded with mentors, but the fact was she had this ache in her heart for older women to come around her at church and nurture her life. She wanted the seasoned women of this world to speak into her soul and overflow onto her hope, perspective, insight. 

Who doesn’t among doesn’t want a mentor like that? 

I laid on the bed, heavy sobs rocking my body. An internal barrage of how dumb I had been rattled around my head. I played the events over and over in the cinema of my mind. It had been a simple mistake, a mere mixup with what turned out to be an easy fix. Yet I couldn't let go of the guilt and embarrassment gripping my heart.

A lithe hand with dimples and chipped nail polish rested a note on my chest and I heard feet quietly shuffle out the door as quickly as they had come in.

"It's okay, mom. Everyone makes mistakes,"

When our kids were itty-bitty we were told to teach them a few basic words in sign language, as this helps eliminate frustration and whining in kids who desire to communicate their needs but haven’t developed the language skills to do so.

The four words that were recommended to us were “Please, thank you, all-done and more.”

I never wanted to play it safe. 

In those rare minutes when the noise of life is quieter than His whisper against my insides, I welcome risk. I want adventure and a life-rush that might empty every last drop of me and dreams that keep my eyes open during otherwise-normal days. I'll take the threat of danger, if it means I get more of Him. I want unconventional, even when it's coupled with the prospect of clearing my bank account or my fuel tank or my carefully planned schedule.

Yes, even with my children in mind, when life is still and my pulse tells me He is near, I'm Caleb and the giants are small.