In week 13 of 52 weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for Carrie Johnson Franks.

“Paul, I think my computer has a virus,” Carrie says.

Then she whispers, “There’s pictures popping up of naked Asian men.”

“That’s very specific,” I joke. “Is there something we need to talk about?”

“Well…” she teases, “You caught me. Asian men are kinda my thing. And, peanut butter.”

We shared a good hearty laugh.

Carrie made work delightful.

Though I worked as an independent contractor, she made me feel like I was fellow colleague in the company, another member of the team.

And, she was thoughtful.

During the recent storm that wreaked havoc across the state, she thought to go into the office that weekend to check on things, and she sent me a heads up about items that may need my attention so that, to use her words, “I wouldn’t feel bombarded that Monday morning”.

That’s just the kind of person she was.

At every business I support, there’s the local techie, the first person other employees turn to for help and the person I can trust to help perform tasks on servers or network equipment to quickly bring something back online. I refer to them as my local I.T. pros.

Carrie was my local I.T. pro.

Each time she’d help me with something, I’d promise to send her some Asian men and peanut butter.

Carrie was my local I.T. pro.

But, because of her kindness, Carrie was more than helping hands at the office.

She was a friend.

I’m grateful.

#52WoG

In week 12 of 52 weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for a meal.

It was nothing earth shattering or particularly special.

It was just a meal –fast food, at that.

But a little more than a decade ago, I suffered a devastating financial disaster.

Since then, I’ve been moving and navigating life like a bear is chasing me -running, evading on my worst days and rushing anxiously on my best.

Life was a scramble. I was always moving quickly to get to the next thing.

I remember one of the lowest days of my life was when I was picking up my dearly beloved son from elementary school. He was moving at a casual, carefree pace and I yelled, yes yelled unlovingly and angrily, “Would you come on here?!”

I’m so sorry.

I hadn’t really been living, not enjoying anything, rather just trying to survive.

I didn’t even enjoy food. I ate without really tasting it. All I wanted to do was get energy and end the hunger.

But on this particular day, I felt free to put the demands of the world aside and enjoyed my meal in contemplative silence.

No phone. No laptop. No work. No ministry.

Just me, a plastic fork and food on a paper plate.

I took time to register the textures, the flavors, the smell.

I ate it slowly, enjoying every morsel and thanking God for every bite.

I say it wasn’t earth shattering but, maybe it was.

Whatever it was, I enjoyed it.

I’m thankful.

#52WoG