A Posture of Gratitude

It's been a long time, friends. My last post is dated August 2nd, the day after my 32nd birthday. Eight days later, a lot of changes took place. It's been good and hard and up and down and non-stop, but I finally decided that it is time. There are some things that need to be transitioned from my brain and my heart to my blog. As I look back over the posts I've written, there are some drafts with titles and no content. It's amusing to me, because I always think I'm being so clever by getting the titles down when I have some random thing I want to write about (later). Months later, I revisit these brief titles and notes, and at best, I vaguely remember in which direction I may have been thinking at the time. The changes I will have to write about at another time...I'm fairly certain they will not be too soon forgotten. Today's words and thoughts are too many to be combined with anything else.

I love fall and I love Thanksgiving. It is my favorite of all seasons and my favorite of holidays. I have always believed that I understood what it meant to be thankful and that I was pretty good at having an 'attitude of gratitude' most of the time. Without even realizing it, I would silently judge others who complained or simply feel pretty good about myself for realizing all that I had and appreciating it. This season has transformed my perspective and now I truly understand what it means to live thankfully every day. Corita Kent said this about understanding:

To understand is to stand under which is to look up which is a good way to understand. 

When I say I understand what it means what I only thought I understood for so long, I do not claim that I fully get it or do it perfectly. I simply mean that I have recently experienced days, un-extraordinary in any way, when my heart has overflowed with thankfulness to the point of tears for things that are not new to me. Corita said it well, and it applies to my life, personally, to add that what I stand under is grace from God and His provision and I look up to Him when I am unable to make sense of my world. Sometimes He chooses to give insight, and sometimes He just drops a big ole thankfulness bomb on me, reminding me that I don't have to 'get' every detail. More often than not, I believe it's the latter, and I'm totally okay with that.

Un-extraordinary Examples

Disclaimer: I do not label these as "un-extraordinary" because they are not a big deal (or because that isn't even a word), but because they are not anything new or different in my life.

Church 

I cry at church every week. When we take communion or when we are worshipping all together as a family or when the pastor is preaching and sometimes during all three of these things, I cry. It's not a spiritual peak moment or a Wednesday night church camp emotional moment. It's truly realizing what Christ did for me and what communion really symbolizes. It's seeing Calvin raise his hands in worship or Luke's sweet face just watching me and wondering what on earth I'm singing about. It's holding Brandon's hand while we listen to a sermon on Ephesians 5 (marriage) or 6 (parenting), knowing that we are a team. I cry tears of joy and gratefulness, not because this is the first time I know that I serve an amazing God or have been blessed with a beautiful family. It is the simple recognition of the simple gift of salvation. It's because I recognize the gift that it is, not just once, but every time that we have these privileges. Psalm 9:1 is what I have shared with my students over and over again in the past couple of weeks. It says

"I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds." 

We talk about the word 'recount', meaning that we are not to recognize and thank God for our blessings once, but again and again and again.

Work

This goes back to all the changes, so I will catch you up later on the details. In a nutshell, I am teaching elementary art at a private Christian school. I cannot even count the times I have cried at work...again tears of pure joy and overflowing from a thankful heart. How many people can say that about their jobs? I work in an incredible place with people who love Jesus and precious children who are learning to love Jesus, too. I also work down the hall from both of my children, so it doesn't get better than that. I am exhausted at the end of the day and I generally don't want to get out of bed early in the morning. Here's how I know I love my job and that I'm grateful for it: I'm not depressed on Sunday night about Monday morning, and I'm not in a bad mood in the car on the way to school in the mornings. Just this week...I cried when sweet friends from work texted and emailed me to check on my boys, because they knew there was a possibility one of them might be sick. I cried at our indescribable family worship chapel on Wednesday and again at our staff meeting that afternoon, as I shared and listened to everyone share their hearts about why they were thankful to be at this place. I cried this morning as our staff joined together and prayer walked through the halls and classrooms, preparing for the day. I cried when I hugged Calvin's teacher in the hall and told her how much I appreciated her, because I know that she loves him and pours the love of Christ into him on a daily basis. Work makes me cry...but in a good way.

In Transit

I can think of two times in the past week that Calvin asked some tough questions, and God immediately gave me words to respond, along with...you guessed it...a grateful heart. We were driving home from school one day, sitting at a stop light, and we saw a man riding his bicycle. He had two sacks, one on each handlebar. It was very cold and damp outside, as we sat in our warm car with the heater going. Calvin said, "Is that man riding a bicycle?" I told him yes. Then, his infamous question: "Why?" Without skipping a beat, I explained that some people don't have cars and we are very blessed that we have a car to drive that works and can get us from place to place, keeping us dry and warm. A couple of days later, Calvin didn't want to wear his coat...I'm sure none of you parents can imagine fighting that battle. He finally conceded, and as we were walking to the car, he said "It's not too cold out here." Again, the words flowed quickly as I responded by explaining that it wasn't too cold because we are so fortunate to have warm clothes to wear. I tried to help him understand with his little 4-year-old brain that not everyone in the world has the option to dress and live comfortably, without fear of what hardships the weather may bring.

It was great to be able to begin to share these truths with my son, and I hope and pray they begin to take root. The real lesson, however, was for me. He didn't see the tears in my eyes as we were sitting at the stop light, because he didn't know that my heart has not always been thankful for my 10-year-old, 100,000+ mile, crack in the windshield vehicle. He didn't know that God was showing me the lack of gratitude in my own heart and revealing to me something huge in my life for which to be thankful. He didn't understand that sometimes mommy wishes she could shop more often for new clothes for myself and my family, when in reality, what we have been blessed with is more than enough.

Why Gratitude Matters

The list really goes on and on, and I know it may sound like I'm just a big crybaby. I can promise you that I'm not. This is a glimpse, a very abbreviated one, into a depth of gratitude that has rocked my world over the past few months. A change in perspective like this is seemingly so small, but absolutely life-changing. I'm learning to not just say the 'right things': I'm so grateful for what I have. I'm just trusting the Lord to provide. I know that God's timing is perfect. I'm actually meaning it in my heart and living it with my life, and it makes all the difference.

At our staff devotion time on Tuesday morning (yes, another time I cried), a teacher shared this: Gratefulness brings contentment and contentment brings peace. I can attest to this statement and wholeheartedly support it. I know God has overflowed my soul with gladness in Him and gratefulness for the ordinary, which really isn't ordinary at all. I have never been more content or peaceful, when it makes the least logical sense to be either, in all my life.

My prayer for you, as you're reading this, is that you will find joy in the little things and the ability to see with new eyes the many things that have been there for so long for which you have to rejoice and have thanksgiving in your heart. May you be richly blessed with just enough.

the pre-schooler in all of us

I watch my 3-year-old son and my 4-year-old nephew interact with my 10-month-old. They are so loving toward him and in awe of him. They fight over giving him hugs and kisses and giving him toys and food and other things he doesn't always need. It's usually really sweet. Until he interferes with their plans or their stuff, as babies tend to do. Then, they are ready for him to go. "Will you pick him up and take him away?", they'll ask. He is no longer welcome in their play area. Often I will see the older boys sit in front of him with a toy and start playing with it, within his reach. The next second they are whining to me that Luke is trying to get their toy. It's so logical to me that the wisdom of that move was absent when you brought the toy and put it right in front of him and then expected him to not reach for it.

Sometimes I get frustrated and cannot understand how it's possible that they don't see the cause and effect relationships at play here. Then, I begin to see how we, as adults, do many of the same things. Let's take change, for example. I tend to welcome change, but only when it's on my terms. I love to move furniture around, try a new restaurant, travel and try new things. I don't even need a rigid, structured schedule all the time. However, if there is a plan in place and someone attempts to change that plan, especially at the last minute, I am not a happy camper. I like follow through, I want people to do their part and I want to stick to the plan. I, I, I sound like a pre-schooler, as if the world revolves around me.

We say this a lot at our house. There are times when I need to say it to myself.

Another instance is the temptations I allow into my life. Just like the boys want to be close to Luke and play next to him, they really don't want to share with him or let him get too close. I do it with food. I sit by the bag of chips long enough to finish them, knowing I don't want the consequences of that but I just get too close and sit with the temptation. I do it with exercise by sitting down and getting involved in a project, TV show or book instead of intentionally putting on my running shoes. I do it with my quiet time, by keeping my priorities in close proximity to me. My phone, computer or the remote is most likely within arm's reach. My bible, however, is usually on the shelf and not the first thing I reach for.

So, when I am tempted to become frustrated with my 3-year-old because he doesn't 'get it', I am reminded that there are times that I don't either. Or I choose to ignore it. I remember that I sometimes pout when things don't go my way. I can be selfish and particular about details that aren't really important. I even mindlessly put things in front of me that I know aren't good for me and will not yield the results I want. It helps me to remember that I, like Calvin, still have a lot to learn about life: letting things go, treating people as more important than plans and being kind and generous is always a good idea.