Monday, November 26, 2007

NaBloPoMo Gratitude #26

My father was a sheet metal worker and worked part-time at the gas station. His hands were never really clean, and in the winter they would crack and bleed from the chemicals in the metal. My mom worked in the school lunch room, cleaned for people, and did mending. Both of them were the children of immigrants and of the Depression. Neither finished high school. They worked really hard for very little. I grew up in that blue collar world with their dreams for me. Dreams that I would do better than they did in some way....maybe be a nurse, or a teacher, that I would at least be secure.

I have an advanced degree and earn my living doing something that brings me such joy that some days I can hardly believe that I get paid to do it. And as a priest I still regularly have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming....yep, even after a year plus......sometimes it's hard to imagine how I got here from there, how I even imagined there was a "here" from there. When I look back and see my small self....I am almost transfixed with the wonder of it all....and I can't help but believe that somehow there is a plan...a purpose....and say, "Oh thank you, thank you God, for all of it!"

5 comments:

Jan said...

Yes, thank you, God.

Grace thing said...

Wow. That's beautiful. And gives me hope.

Mrs. M said...

(((Kate)))

mompriest said...

Given the course of my life I am not as certain that there is a "plan"...I usually think that there is a "divine desire" and we, more or less, live into that desire...

really grateful that you feel so content with your life...that is wonderful!

RevDrKate said...

Mompriest, I like that idea a lot actually....it sounds like something that someone who loves us would have for us, doesn't it?