Wrangler Dani

So here are the prompts: December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors), and December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

So, moments. I refuse to pick one, so here’s a few.

April: When I saw my name in print. Remember all that stuff I said about growth? Well, my longsuffering husband heard a lot of tears and bellyaching before I actually got to the place of getting published, and he still hears it when I doubt myself or when it seems like a fluke. But every time I get a positive blog comment or another writing gig, I go back to that overly-excited-squealing/I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening euphoria of that first time. I hope I never lose that.

Yesterday, holding Tiny Tim to my chest as I sat behind him on our sturdy old faithful Quarter Horse. As I squeeze my horse between my thighs I’m thankful for every harried ride that Wrangler Ami and I endured, every long trek I made with Melody, testing myself over back roads and open fields. Because now, in a twist to my story that only God could have written, I’m carrying more precious cargo than I ever have before, and all of those years of training are needed in this moment. Tiny Tim is three years old, and he suffers from cerebral palsy and extreme cuteness. He snuggled his back up against me, eyes wide, taking in the world, the blue sky, his sturdy steed, and waving his arms in jubilation at all that he saw. The cold air stung our faces and the weak sun of December struggled to make our horse’s dark coat warm for us. Tiny Tim grabbed my fingers for support as we went around every turn, and even though we began the ride in trepidation, we ended it relaxed and happy, smiling for Tiny Tim’s young, overwhelmed mom, making her smile brighter than the long-gone summer sun.

January: Adam and I trudged up through deep snow in Yosemite, snowshoes strapped to our feet, ice crystals hanging off of the trees, the woods quiet and solemn in bleak midwinter. It’s our one-year anniversary, and we went back to where it all started, where I first started to wonder if he might be “it”, two years earlier. It’s crisp and beautiful and we still think that we’re hilarious. Life is good.

So many times over the last year when I have felt loved and known and in community, such as: when I feel at ease with Adam’s family, because they are mine now and I love them dearly, when I know exactly what Denver is going to make fun of me for, when I get to spend time with my family, when we are a part of weddings and baby showers and celebrations, when we are appreciated and useful at our church, when friends leave me voicemails, when we can travel both with friends and with each other and enjoy every minute, when my students tell me they want “mith Dani for Christhmath”, when I can cook something delicious for people I love, when laughter comes easily.

So, coupled with these moments is wonder. Wonder that I’ve been so blessed, that I am so loved, that life is so good, that so often I forget to be grateful, and that all of these beautiful things and people in our life are gifts from God.