Recently, I've been in the process of taking over the WMU (Women's Missionary Union for my non-Southern Baptist friends) and one of the tasks is planning the mother-daughter luncheon.
I'm not a planner by nature.
I'm not good at these things.
I also don't know how to make 50 pounds of chicken salad.
Or how many boxes of jello it takes to feed 100+ people.
But I'm thankful.
I'm thankful for the ladies that came to help cook.
I'm thankful one of them has the decorating know-how to make things look gorgeous.
I'm thankful that my church babies were happy with their blue jello.
I'm thankful that a couple of my 'girls' were ready and willing to help.
I'm thankful for the wisdom of the past generations (mostly the wisdom that says to not plate chicken salad until 30 minutes before lunch).
I'm thankful for friends that will help me untangle the belt of my dress.
I'm thankful for sweet inspirations to remind me who I do it all for.
I'm thankful for reminders that it's okay for me to get frustrated, as long as I don't get angry.
I'm thankful for the smiles I saw on the faces of the women.
I'm thankful that I got to spend time talking to several non-members. I love people.
I'm thankful that God provided the speaker we needed to hear.
I'm thankful for the older ladies who didn't criticize, just offered suggestions and did their best to help me.
I'm thankful for a cousin who can sense my stress and jumps in to help without being asked.
And I'm thankful someone knows how to make 50 pounds of chicken salad.
