Giving Thanks

Hi friends.  Welcome back.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed a special Thanksgiving this week. 

Our Thanksgiving Day was restful, as we chose to abate tradition this year in favor of letting someone else cook for us.  We weathered the heavy snowfall and headed to a local restaurant to partake of our Thanksgiving feast.  It's funny how people seem to instantly pity you when you tell them you're eating out on Thanksgiving.  "Come over to our house!"  "We'll have some extra!  Please swing by!"  Listen, I think it's just what we needed this year.  No fuss, no mess, no stress.  And while you folks were scrubbing your broiler pans and spot-cleaning wine glasses, I was snuggling my kids on the couch watching "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving". 

I love Thanksgiving traditions, but it was nice to have a little break this year...and believe me, Kendall was happier with her macaroni-and-cheese than a plate of turkey and stuffing.  :)

I was listening to a radio program in the car on Wednesday night.  The host asked the question, "What are you thankful for this year that you couldn't have imagined being thankful for last year?"  Callers trickled in.  Babies.  New job.  Relocations.  As I tried to formulate an answer for myself, I thought surely not everyone can answer this question.  I mean, they don't know what kind of a year I've had!  I don't exactly feel *thankful*, not more thankful than last year anyway. 

And then I picked up my copy of  Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist.  I haven't read through the book entirely, but I quickly flipped through some unread territory at the back of the book.  A chapter called "Happy Thanksgiving" seemed timely, so I sat down to scan it.  And then, I came across a paragraph which seemed to pen what has been swirling in my head:

"What I've found this year, though, is a different kind of gratitude. ...in the swirling pain and confusion of that season, a few people told me that at some point, I would be happy for this, thankful, even.  That didn't sit well with me, and it felt even worse than the cliches about closing doors and opening windows.  It felt cruel:  not only was I not supposed to be sad, I was supposed to be thankful?  It felt inauthentic and creepy, and I swore to myself that even if I healed someday, even if the pain abated, even if I was happy again, I would never be thankful for this.  I would never be one of those people who's thankful for cancer because of what it taught them, or thankful for the divorce for teaching them to be independent.  I would never be thankful for this."

Okay, so I'm not the only person in the world struggling with gratitude.   Circumstantial gratitude, anyway- if there is such a thing.  At the core of my being, I am always grateful for God's grace, for His patience with me, for walking with me through deep valleys, for keeping my eyes open on days marked with utter exhaustion, for the gift of motherhood (even when it gets tough), for the joys of family and friends.  Even as I write these now, I'm realizing that I appreciate all of these blessings more than last year, belatedly answering my radio friend's question.

I read on, and God spoke to me as He often does when I'm paying attention- and He had my full attention.  Indulge me, if you will, as I share one more passage with you:

"I am all the cliches that made me so mad several months ago.  I believe in the gift of pain.  I believe that loss deepens us.  ... I am grateful for God's graciousness toward me that he would teach me these things.  And I could gag at that sentence, for how Pollyanna it sounds.  As much as I hate to admit it, I've found a new gratitude, and it's gratitude for the way God has redeemed darkness and pain, for the way He brings something beautiful out of something horrible.  ... When we stood in a circle to pray and close our night together, we held hands and thanked God for the darkness, and for the way the darkness had become light, and in that moment, we practiced Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving for the uncomplicated happiness of babies and friendship and food, and for the very complicated joys that come from loss, from failure, from reaching the bottom and pushing back up to the light."

My blessings looked different this year.  There was one more at our dinner table and there was one less (an unsettling pattern in my life lately).  But as we ate, I felt content.  I giggled as Kendall ordered her own Macaroni and Cheese.  I watched Carter gobble up his first green beans.  Later, we enjoyed the apple pie that my mom and I had made earlier in the day, a blessing in both the making and the eating.  And my husband, who was on-call for the holiday, was home from work in time to share all of it with us.  I am grateful. And like a kid who earns money for that new toy by tending a lemonade stand for hours, I appreciate life and it's richness more.  I appreciate the people in my life more.  I appreciate good days and laughter more.  That's what I was thankful for this year.