I groggily got out of bed yesterday to make myself coffee, just like I do on most Sundays.
Routine. Predictable. Normal.
I reached for the coffee filters in the cupboard and realized I was almost out. Upon the realization that I’ve been living in my own place long enough to use an entire package of coffee filters, a weird wave of emotions hit me.
Strange milestones are sometimes the most powerful.
Among the emotions that hit me, I felt proud of myself.
I really have worked so hard to pull myself back from where I was a few years ago. I built a life for myself with people I love from the ground up. I’ve been living on my own for almost nine months and working full time for almost eight months. To some, that’s just life. But to a girl like me who thought I might never work or really live again, it’s insane.
Overwhelming even, when I stop and think about it.
As I poured my dark roast coffee grounds into the filter, I also felt peace.
An air of normalcy that I so longed for has returned to my life, with enough of a routine to use 200 coffee filters. A new town, a new job, new friends, and a new church family have all come together to form a beautiful new start for me.
And that’s why, more than anything else, I felt grateful.
I felt grateful for a Mama who patiently puts up with me from one mini crisis to the next and answers my panicked calls when I don’t know how long to cook a pan of lasagna.
I felt grateful for a Savior who lovingly pursues me when I don’t deserve it and guides my heart back to the beauty of His gospel.
I felt grateful for all the people who walked with me and supported me and carried me to where I am today.
I’m grateful to be alive.
Life is far from perfect. My ongoing battle with chronic pain, totalled car, family loss, and ruptured eardrum all remind me of that. Constantly.
But I’m living. I’m still not over how cool that is.
Here’s to the next 200 coffee filters.