It is bone-chilling cold right now, even though our sheep and donkeys easily handle the cold, I feel for them out in the darkness, the arctic wind sweeping across the pasture.

Today, a precious cold day of gratitude.

I sat before the fire, and close my eyes, and prayed in my own way with my own words to me.

As my inbox fills up with ads and bargains for Black Friday, America’s true Thanksgiving holiday, I turned inward to acknowledge the things I am grateful for, this is the purpose of our holiday, not just the discounts we can get tomorrow.

Maria and I sipped hot tea to stay warm, we walked on frozen Main Street until out faces were numbed, we sat by a roaring fire, we invited fellow orphaned friends to come and share Thanksgiving dinner with us.

It was a warm and meaningful day. It was a sweet and meaningful time.

I can barely list all of the things I am grateful for today: Maria, The Army Of Good, my farm, my sweet dogs, the Mansion residents, the refugee children and immigrants, the residents of the Mansion and their aides, my friends, my blog, my photography, by brave and broken heart, my daughter, my sister, my granddaughter, the donkeys and sheep, my blessed farm, new radio show, my doctors and nurses, the very great people who have supported me in my work.

It was not so long ago that none of those people or things were in my life. That was when I slipped into the darkness and shook with fear.

Gratitude is uplifting and healing for me. It fills me with hope as the dark days come.  A doctor told me just a few years ago that I am very lucky to be alive. I know this is true.

I understand now something I never understood before. I have to know the darkness in order to see the light. I have to acknowledge and understand my brokenness and lostness to find meaning, purpose and direction in life.

If I cannot find a way out of the darkness, I can not ever find the light.

So I have learned to embrace the darkness and accept it, both in solitude and community. I reach inside towards my true heart and outside to the good and open and sometimes needy hearts outside of me.

I think the prophets were correct when the wrote the only path to the thing we call God is in caring for the voiceless, the helpless and the needy. In fact, for me, that is what God is.

If there is a devil, he reveals himself through the hearts he hardens.

By embracing the darkness, in solitude and community, I am beginning to find the light.