Thankful On Thursday

I love that today is Thursday.  Right before work got too hectic for me to write I decided to spend Thursdays being thankful.  (You can see the original post here.)  I am reading a book called 1000 Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.  It is an amazing book about… On second thought, just read my first post.  The book is getting deeper and deeper.  At first I thought it was a wonderful concept…God gives grace, we give thanksgiving, God gives joy.  Like I said, wonderful concept.  However, now she is getting into the nitty gritty of what it really means to be thankful for God’s grace.  It means seeing everything as God’s grace – the good, the bad and the ugly.  In order to do that we must trust God.  We must trust Him in everything.  One chapter I read yesterday dealt with anger and another with fear/stress.  Here are two different quotes from those two chapters.

“Feel thanks and it’s absolutely impossible to feel angry.  We can only experience one emotion at a time.  And we get to choose – which emotion do we want to feel?”

“If authentic, saving belief is the act of trusting, then to choose stress is an act of disbelief…atheism.  Anything less than gratitude and trust is practical atheism.  I wince.  Perhaps the opposite of faith is not doubt.  Perhaps the opposite of faith is fear.  To lack faith perhaps isn’t as much an intellectual disbelief in the existence of God as fear and distrust that there is a good God.  If I don’t emotionally believe, practically believe, in the the goodness of God, am I a believer?”

Then, she puts it all together.

“Thanks is what builds trust.”

This book is changing my life because it’s changing the way I see life.  When I engage in what I am learning I live out my faith, and when I live out my faith I understand fully that to live any other way is futile.  

I am going to share my morning prayer with you because I think it is the ultimate example of how I can see my own life changing.  I will preface by saying that I was only home for about four 36-hour periods in the past four to five weeks.  This means that I basically had time to come home, clean the bathroom, do laundry, pack and leave again.  I live with my husband and my brother.  They are basically bachelors in this home during times like these.  (I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about the details of what I come home to.)  During my busy times I generally get home in the evenings, sit on the couch with my husband, and refuse to look around.  The next morning I get up, get the urgent things done, enjoy lunch with my brother, the evening with my husband, and the next morning I leave again.  This has been my pattern.  Today, the pattern is broken.  I am not scheduled to work again for 10 days.  This means that I allow myself to look around.  Generally, in my humanity, I experience frustrated anger.  I look at everything that needs to be done just to catch-up before the acts of attempting to finish our remodel can even be started.  I huff and puff and heave and slam.  I believe that I am the only one who cares and I get angry. 

(In my husband’s defense, he is working on his thesis for his master’s degree and is hardly ever home.  My brother basically sleeps here.  I don’t think he even uses our glasses.  They are just as busy as I and none of us has time for this house.)

Today marks a turning point in my life.  Today I decided to live eucharisteo.  I sorted the mail, threw away the glossy pages, piled the bills, moved dishes to sink, went to empty dishwasher and saw that it was already empty, looked back at full sink and CHOSE to be thankful.  Walked to suitcase, gathered journal and began writing…

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Heavenly Father, which is my favorite description of You, thank you for this day.  Thank you for eucharisteo.  Thank you for Ann Voskamp.  Thank you that dishes in sink next to empty dishwasher means that husband is alive and well.  Thank you that dirty house means life is being lived and that unorganized drawers means much fun elsewhere.  Thank you that hair on floor and funny smells means four legged creatures share in our love.  Thank you that no milk when milk is craved means strong bones elsewhere.  Thank you that too much food to fit in pantry and spills onto counter means abundance and stomachs full.  Thank you that more clothes than fit in closets can hold and more books than shelves can bear mean we shall want for nothing.  Thank you that medical bills prove health and insurance denials spark creativity.  Thank you that more than can be done in one day gives drive to live another.  Thank you that sun shining through windows means cat basking and dog anxious.  Thank you for legs to run and lungs to breathe.  Thank you that the heart-breaking rejection from law school of choice means eyes for the one with arms wide open.  Thank you that weariness toward one house brings dreams of another.  Thank you for silent mornings and the peace of two men sleeping soundly.  Thank you for space heaters that warm toes and robes that keep out chill.  Thank you for glasses that give sight and contacts that transform eyes.  Thank you for healed sunburns and reminders of sunscreen.  Thank you for messes that wonderful laid-back people can’t see.  Thank you for the calm those people bring to this life anal and hectic.  Thank you for this life and the blessings that are peace and the blessings that are chaos.  Thank you for time, for one hour this morning that is mine, and Yours.  Thank you dear Jesus.   Thank you my Lord.