Sierra Mackenzie

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Eucharisteo | v. 4

eucharisteo: yoo-khar-is-teh'-o               to be grateful, feel thankful, give thanks. 

"The root word of eucharisteo is charis, meaning “grace.” Jesus took the bread and saw it as graceand gave thanks. He took the bread and knew it to be gift and gave thanks. Eucharisteo, thanksgiving, envelopes the Greek word for grace, charis. But it also holds its derivative, the Greek word chara, meaning “joy.” Charis. Grace. Eucharisteo. Thanksgiving. Chara. Joy." -Ann Voskamp

Being thankful for the little gifts that He gives us in every day life. These posts of "things to be happy about"  will be sporadic until i've reached 1,000. Some will be beautifully worded. Some will be broken. Some will be a short sentence. All will be gifts.
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number thirty-one: Recently I have been enraptured by the idea of hats. (" Hats... hats... How do I explain this?" My fingers tap the keys impatiently as thoughts swirl. Ho-hum.)  I suppose what I mean is that, as I'm going through my seventeenth year, I'm thankful that G-d hasn't given me one specific hat to wear. Though the days are far and few between, today I'll wear the Jane Austen hat, where I flutter about the house enjoying all the housework and delighting in poetry and piano-playing, and sip my coffee in the early morning with rose-colored spectacles at the romantic gleam of it all. Tomorrow I'll wear the hat that Jo March wore in  Little Women - the "genius hat?"- the one that  screams studious. And I'll bundle down with the latest course and a pen and scratch away. Another day I'll wear the hat of teacher, and another the hat of mission worker. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you strip away all the hats... there's just me. I'm a little bit of each of those hats; I'm not one person. I'll never be the wholehearted romantic; I'll never be the one who gives myself completely to books; I'll never be all teacher or all music-maker, or all ______. I want to be a little bit of all of the above. My dream "field" lies in missionary, wife  mother, and writer... not singularly. I have a hat uniquely fashioned for me by G-d... which is a bizarre thought that I passionately adore. 

number thirty-two: Being able to see my Tiffani this past week, and giving and receiving the biggest hug in forever (instead of those over Skype).  Being able to sing, and dance, and oh, just rejoice at our reunion. "People don't understand the joys of midnight snacking." 

number thirty-three: This blogging journey. It's been nearly five years (as of February 10th), and I can honestly say (for the umpteenth time, I'm sure) this has been the most incredible journey. I'm almost  embarrassed  to go back to the childish posts of 2010, and have considered deleting them; but they are part of the journey. The friends I've made and cherish are such blessings; and even greater (if that's possible), is the resource to write and share. I'm so thankful. 

number thirty-four: The beauty and wonder of love. My cousin and his (now) fiance have officially become engaged! I'm so, so happy for them, and so excited to see where G-d leads them over the next several years. 

number thirty-five: The sun-rays of earliest morning's dawn leaking out across the sea, creating a hue unbeknownst to me. It sounds strange, but I'm almost sure that there are going to be a myriad of colors no one has ever dreamed of when we get to Heaven. Colors in between peach and  fuchsia , colors in between palest mint green and an aquamarine emerald. 
There goes my imagination. 


number thirty-six: Opening up a new planner for this new year. Staring down at the many unfilled pages and contemplating how those pages will soon be filled with the plans that will shape me as a person. I often think of planners as an diary without detail- friends. Unfortunately I hadn't truly discovered the merits of owning one until last year- but now I can't imagine a week without at least a sketch of the school to be completed- along with a sense of accomplishment at its finish. :) However... I also want to live with blank days. I don't want to be so stuck in my planned idea that I miss out on the ultimate plan. 
*Gasp* This ties in with my word. 

number thirty-seven: Candles. A flame flickering in the midst of a darkened space.  Grace-Hope laughs when I tell her that candles and words are among my other (normal) love-languages. There's just something about the warmth that they seemingly bring to my coffee table, my desk, the kitchen... oh, anywhere really. 

number thirty-eight: I still have a "thing" with long bike rides. I ride down the hill, wind whistling in my ears and letting loose my hair in a million directions I had no idea existed. In this activity... my heart is still before the L-rd. There is no chaos, there is simply the rush of movement.. and I love it so much. 

number thirty-nine:  The ability to be vulnerable. It's becoming less of a rare occasion when I feel this..and I'm thankful that I have people that I can be vulnerable around and not care.

number forty: My one word. It's coming into play already. Ah, friends. I'm going to be an adventurer this year- in the most sane sense of the word (for the time being)...
ah, here is the beauty. 


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