The milk box, at my grandmother’s house when I was just a visitor, just a grandchild, before my parent’s divorce and I moved in becoming something not quite a grandchild and not quite a daughter, before the great change, the milk box sat on her front porch. Not by the door for all to see – but against the red-brick porch wall between the green swing and the steps. Always shaded, always protected from the elements.
On those sweet occasions when I would spend the night with my grandmother and grandfather, some early mornings found me already swinging, waiting for the milk man to bring two or three glass milk jars with paper seals, jars sweating coolness. Some mornings the milk man came when I was still sleeping. When I woke, I’d run down, open the lid to the milk box and gather those white, glistening bottles and take them to the kitchen.
Before the great change, Grandmother made hot chocolate for me in the mornings. After the great change, she poured me an everyday glass of milk. Living with my grandparents, along with my mother and brother, became every day living, not special occasion living.
I can still feel the cool grey concrete under my feet, the sound of the milk box lid dropping – and the coolness of the milk.
Blessings are like that. Except God brings them to our doorstep, placing them in often likely places, like a milk box. Like that little girl, sometimes I meet Him there – at the steps of the blessing – and sometimes I arrive after He has left – and I must look for the blessing.
I am learning to find the blessings in the midst of the big and little challenges of every day living. Won’t you join me, join the search for the blessings the Father leaves us, each individual us? Join me at Ann’s 1,000 Gifts with a community of women seeking to live blessing?
80) A good morning Hallelujah to wake up my faith and greet my Father. Some days this moment is in the shower. Sometimes in the morning school ride; other times just in the footsteps of waking everyone else.
81) not getting my shoes wet in the buckets and mists of rain
82) anger receding after untangling myself, like from a sticky cobweb
83) scriptures sent from Nan at LBDDiaries asking God for His words to come out of my mouth during a job interview
84) Friends sending notes of prayer promises
85) red tomatoes, red onions which are really purple and green romaine hearts chopped into a salad
86) Psalm 35:1 – wanting my Father to contend against those who come against me, for His justice to prevail but for forgiveness to be meted out.
87) a husband who champions me
88) a husband who cares when I cry, like Hannah’s husband cared about her tears.
89) That God collects each of my tears (Psalm 56:8)
90) That I love enough, open my heart enough to risk hurt, risk tears
91) a blue and white Bybee Pottery bowl filled with rice
92) My sons asking for more and being able to ladle out more. . . more rice, more time, more love, more attention
93) for zinc – and the all day energy I’ve never had before, the lifted brain fog, and the me I recognize
94) morning drives to school listening
95) one son leading us in The Lord’s Prayer
96) another son leading us in Psalm 23
97) the teen choosing a Proverb
98) time and discipline enough to pray before they pile out of the car that angels encamp about them, that they show others the love of Jesus through their words or actions, that they seek relationship with the Father throughout the day – and that the morning prayer is not the only time spent with Him.
99) blue after days of gray
100) a sunset like I’ve never seen, a foil-pressed sky reflecting gold, fuchsias, yellows, like a fiery furnace, with rectangles and waves emitting different pigments- and I remember thinking that maybe Jesus will return “riding on a cloud, shining like the sun” – like that – not just white brightness and white billowing clouds – but riding on Clouds of shiny Gold and Pinks and Yellows to Purples.
101) my scale showing 9 lbs lost due to self-discipline
102) True Directions. Words do mean something.
103) Narcissus Paperwhite candles
104) Quiet time in my office on Saturday, my only companion the Father, who I asked to come help with a story, not because I was struggling but because I didn’t want to do it without Him
105) Sunday lunch at Olive Garden
106) a bottomless bowl of salad
107) a carafe of coffee and cup to go
108) a waitress who took such good care of us
109) boy humor – and the stamina to handle it and a husband who reminds me “this is normal.”
110) Sunlight pouring through the front windows of my house and falling light through my bedroom window
111) a clothe full of dust
112) moments of joy-filled hope – for no apparent reason than for the moment, nothing is trying to steal it
113) doggedly trying to live forgiveness, to stop pulling the scab off hurt, recognizing that living forgiveness does not always staunch hurt
114) a bracelet a friend gave me before the journey over 2 years ago – a symbol of unconditional, God-love – because that is how she lives.
115) For milk box memories. I never want to go back but I like remembering the good things, the blessing things God always showed me in a broken time – like the honeysuckle in the backyard, grandfather’s white azaleas, fried bologna sandwiches, front porch living – the little blessings are where the beautiful things were.
Hey Gal! Hope this finds that you have had a wonderfully blessed Sunday. I really enjoyed your post. I remember the milk “jugs” but not milk boxes. LOL! Anyway, you childhood sounds similar to mine. My mom and dad divorced when I was 5. We (my mom, 2 sisters and I)moved in with my grandmother. We lived with her for a few years my 2 sisters got married at 16, so that left me (the youngest) at home. After my mawmaw died, we moved into our own apartment, but the strange thing is I only remember certain events while living with my mawmaw. I remember her getting me with a willow switch incase I did anything wrong at school, but I also remember her sitting in her rocker with me on her lap just singing away out of her Hymnal. I remember other things as well, but those are my favorite . She wasn’t really mean, it’s just that mom worked all the time, and my mawmaw was stuck with me. I was a handful for my age I guess. I know that sound strange. Of course the willow switch hurt, but I think I was more embarrassed than anything because when I wore my Girl Scout uniform, I looked so “Christmasy with my green uniform on with red striped legs. I have to admit I made it worse on myself because I ran. By the time she caught me, She was really angry, because she was in her 70’s and had no business having to chase me down. Well, I don’t know how much of that sounded familiar to your story, but your’s struck a chord with me because of living with your grandparents.
By the way, what is that 79-114? Just curious.
God bless,
PJ
Hi PJ,
I think our grandmother’s generation were strong, no-nonsense women who survived the Depression and WWII. My grandmother was a strict woman whose toughness taught me to be strong, to stand up for myself. Both of us are so blessed to have had women like that in our lives. Wednesday, I’m doing a post on what being a child of divorce is often like, “On the Outside Looking in.”
79 – 114 are lists of blessings that I am finding through the week. God has put on my heart that I need to see the little blessings in life. That is the theme He gave me for this year – “The Year of the Little Blessings” – so I am joining in at A Holy Experience on Monday, working toward 1000 Blessings. I just kept seeing the BIG Blessings – like the saving of a child during birth, the healing of a son – and He wanted me to see the everyday blessings that He leaves along my everyday living paths:)
Be blessed dear friend!
I’ve cried my share of tears in recent weeks and I cling to the knowledge that He catches each one. Everything on your list struck me. I can’t pick a favorite but I do love #87. Blessings to you!
What a great idea. I am blessed and I know it!!!
Have a beautiful week.
I love how you let us in, like light through a stained glass window, to your life and your memories. You capture all of His brilliant colors with your words.
And I love the fullness of your thankfuls.
oh, this picture…love it. Our house is old, so we have a milk door between the house and the garage… love to leave little surprises in there for my kids 🙂
so, so loved your list.
Oh, this bittersweet. I feel that ache of the loss of the special, but I see it shine once again in your memory. And such a lovely memory too. I could feel the sweating of those white bottles…you tell it so well. Keep counting those sweet blessings. Some things just need named.
Love this! You are truly blessed. And girl #84 sounds yummy and is making me hungry. Some of my favs right there. Blessings.
I love remembering all the simple pleasures of life past. I too, would not want to go back, but the memories are so worth sharing with our children.
God is so good to bless us in so many ways — some huge, like salvation, some smaller but precious, like a butterfly hovering over a flower. Thanks so much for your sweet comments on my blog. Your blog is a blessing and I am now following it by email, and I invite you to follow Saved by Grace:
http://savedbygracebiblestudy.blogspot.com/
Love in Him,
Laurie Collett
Blessings~delivered to your door step. I love this. I have tender memories of staying with my grandparents too. What a sweet post.
I have such beautiful memories of staying with my grandparents. I cherish the memories of garden flowers and vegies, sitting in the rose arbor grandpa made for grandma, the pot bellied stove, yes, even the outhouse. You have certainly blessed me today.
Beautiful post. Simple things are so lovely, though sometimes bitter sweet. Thanks.
I just happened by your blog and I just happen to love it!
Beau-ti-ful! Such a great reminiscence. Loved it!
I’m with you on the Sunday lunch at Olive Garden. I thought that blessing was just for me…. 🙂
Also loved reading about the milk bottles. I remember the clink of the metal box closing and getting me in trouble for getting into the milk. Mom could always hear the clink.
I enjoyed your milk box post. I have two grandchildren who are familiar with the trauma of divorce. They are extra special and spend quite a bit of time with me. I hope with God’s help that we give them some security and peace.
I love how you tied all this together! So beautiful. 🙂
Congratulations on your weight loss!
Looking for the blessings…yes, sometimes I see them the second they land on the doorstep; other times I have to go searching. But they’re always there.
Amen!
These rich childhood memories are a must for handing down. And the translations of the feelings you had as a child into thankfulness for God’s gifts today, great.
Visiting over from Tanya’s place
Thank you so much for this. I love the restrained pace, and that feeling of security you conjure up with the milk bottles. This is just brilliant – the sad mixed in with the comforting – and isn’t that exactly how God blesses us? I love this – thank you.
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