Gratitude as an Attitude

Gratitude has been the single most radical attitude adjustment I've ever experienced.

Once upon a time, I had the time and energy to be a volunteer Bible camp staff member. One year (I don't remember how it started), a couple of us girl staffers found a way to stay positive: if any of us seemed to be sliding toward complaining or a sour attitude, one would call out, "Attitude check!" and we would respond, "Praise the Lord!"

A bit trite? Maybe. But it worked. Every time.

Try being negative while giving thanks.
Try complaining when you're busy thanking God for His blessings.
Try holding a grudge when you're remembering what you've been forgiven.
Try coveting while taking note of the abundance of your possessions.
Try ruminating on all your failings while hearing God's truth spoken over you.

Lord, I can't see you. I feel so hopeless. Where are you in times like this? Do you see me here?
I see you. I know you. I know your circumstances; not one of them is outside my awareness.

Father, they've hurt me. Every time I try to forgive them, what they did rises before my eyes and blocks my prayers. How can I move past this?
Look at what I've forgiven you. Love them with the love I've given you.

I've had enough! This isn't fair. This isn't what I signed up for. I have my rights!
Do you remember what I did with My rights?

Gratitude - thanksgiving - sings with the joy of salvation and revels in the riches lavished upon us.

Think of your salvation story. Someday, maybe I'll put mine on here. I've shared bits with those around me as I felt it would be beneficial, but my husband is probably the only one who's heard the whole, ugly truth of it. I don't know about you, but when I think of the ick that's in there and what I've been saved from, my heart kneels in awe. To consider that God could use my story in His kingdom plan is nothing short of miraculous; remembering that gives me a whole lot more grace for those around me.

Thanksgiving colors the air around you when you breath it in and out daily. It changes how you see people and situations, and it affects how others see and respond to you.

It's not a stretch to say that gratitude could fix a lot of what is wrong with this world.
Prejudice.
Debt.
Hoarding.
Adultery.
Family squabbles.
Materialism.
They - and a host of others - all have the potential to fade into nonexistence when people are busy thanking God.

Thanksgiving...
So much more than the fourth Thursday in November.



"And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." Colossians 3:15-17 ESV, emphasis added

"I Had No Idea"

We've all had those life experiences we look back upon and say, "I had no clue what I was getting into."

Two-year-olds (like N this morning) may learn that Mom and Dad tell them not to touch an electrical outlet for a reason.

Middle school kids often find that friendship drama is more than they bargained for.

A teen may find college harder to navigate, more work, or even more enjoyable, than they thought going into the experience.

Adults have their own versions of being irreversibly over their heads: a new job, owning a home, marriage, parenting. And it seems, no matter what sort of measures we take to be prepared going into it, there are just some things in life you have to experience to really grasp what it's like.

And then, of course, there are the life events we hardly comprehend to prepare ourselves for.

Our two-year-old is coming up on one such event, and try as we might to prepare her, she honestly has no idea what's in store for her. But, she'll figure it out sometime in January.

Feeling Kist

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the week still hadn't decided if it would be sour or sweet.
Spring played hard to get;
N wanted her lunch,
except when she didn't want it,
until she wanted it again,
at which point she only wanted it if I would feed it to her while she danced around the kitchen table between bites.

And then two piano students came in for their 100th lesson. And they had flowers.
For me.
For our 100th lesson.

But even that paled in comparison to their old-fashioned thank-you note.

I think this week is going to turn out quite pleasant after all.

Stop and Feel the Roses

Do you ever think about what a boring place this world would be without texture?

I have pondered it lately due, in no small part, to a proclivity to nausea throughout the last several months (if you'received wondering why, read about the reason here). This seems especially relevant in the area of food.

Think of your favorite food for a moment. You can probably smell it, taste it, see it laid out in front of you, and feel it in your mouth. That "feel" may be the last thing I think of when it comes to food, but for some foods I avoid, I find that that is the primary reason for my dislike. It may looks nice, smell nice, and taste nice, but if that texture is too slimy, or grainy, or lumpy, it can completely overwhelm a dish's other positive attributes.

And textures in food are just a beginning!

I have a sweater I love, except that it itches when I wear it. My favorite around-the-house clothes look awful, but they feel so nice. When I bought sheets for our bed recently, I spent more time with my hand in among the cloth than I did picking a color.

Or the beauty of the outdoors? Imagine the green and brown of a tree - but without the fifty shades of each that textures give. It would look like a child's drawing: good enough for the refrigerator door, but a sorry excuse for a sweeping panoramic or idyllic pastoral.

And that is just a tree! There is the wonderful spiny texture of grass, the velvety curves of flowers, the soft bounce of clouds, the sweeping curve of sky, and the breath-taking undulations of a world covered in snow.

All that, and I haven't even touched on colors!

What a world of beauty and wonder we inhabit (yes, even those of us in a Midwestern winter)! There is a God I know, and I get my delight of texture from Him. How do I know? Because He did not have to make a world of textures. But He did. He made them, which tells me that He likes them, too.

So, take a moment, please, to stop and feel the roses.

Lemonade

Before you read today's post, I would like you to watch this video.

I appreciate how Chris Rice takes an old adage, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," and turns it into a song of appreciation for all that God gives. As another year swings around, I am reminded of our daily blessings - blessings far more abundant than I have any right to expect. Gift after gift rolls to mind with only a few minutes' contemplation.

But, beyond the goodness of a lemonade-giving God, I am not even drinking it alone. I get to share a glass with a man who also thanks God for it as he drinks deeply of our life together.

And God isn't even finished yet.

We are announcing that we are going to need another straw!

Of Feasting and Fasting

All too often, I hear myself telling God about how things look like they are going to be tight, that I don't know if things will stretch far enough, that He is going to have to cover a need if He wants me to do X. Then, I stop, look around the house, and sheepishly take my worries back as I start to thank Him for everything He has already provided. I mean, really. We have a home. Food in the fridge and in the pantry. A washer and dryer. Furniture to sit on; a bed to sleep on. Indoor plumbing. Safe drinking water. Central air and heating.

How rich are we?

I once heard someone say something along the lines of, "If you only had tomorrow the things you thanked God for today, what would you have left?"

Yeah, I started listing everything.

You've all heard the lecture about taking our lifestyles for granted when so many have so little. I don't mean to add this post to the ranks of white-middle-class-guilt-inducing literature. We don't have to feel guilty. But we should definitely feel grateful. And then we should act gratefully.

If we're grateful, then we're not entitled.

If we're not entitled, then we can give it up (or give it away).

But we don't like to give things up. Think, for example, of the last time you heard fasting mentioned as something a modern American should do. Can you think of a time? Even a time in church?

I used to fast more often. I would take a day a week, even, when I had something that needed some extra praying. It was a strange experience, almost enjoyable, once I stopped thinking about all the things I couldn't eat and just started using that time to focus on my prayer. (I did not know how all-pervasive food was to my thought life until I started doing this. It was unnerving.) The experience was freeing, in a sense, from my normal concerns; it proved to me that I could ignore this urge for a while, that it was not my master.

This month, I've been fasting from desserts and other highly-sugared edibles. Why? Well, the short answer is, "Because I didn't want to."

Note: The moment you tell God that you are not willing to give something up, know that that item is going, and going soon.

Thankfully, He brought me to the point of giving up my sweets through gently working in my soul, rather than creating a medical crisis necessitating such actions. He could have done it that way, but maybe He knew I would whine a lot less if He brought me to it this way.

Today, I have eight days left in the month. I have passed on birthday cake and s'mores. I have resisted doughnut holes and caramel cake. I've looked the other way while Preston ate ice cream or as I walked through the checkout aisle in the grocery store. And, yes, I have set a few select items by in the cupboard or freezer until October 1.

But I have been free.

I have had (almost) a month when I could say no to that sweet something calling my name. I have walked away from dessert and realized that I didn't feel hugely disappointed or like I had missed out greatly. I have not worshiped a brownie in weeks by putting enjoying it ahead of my health or my goals or of God's desires for my life.

I conceived of the goal as a weight-loss maneuver, but it has become a spiritual journey.

Oh, the temptation is there: if not to eat something sweet, then at least to fantasize about what I will eat as soon as the thirty days are past. But to know that God has given us these foods, that they are good, and that they are not my master, that is the real treasure; and, oh, it is sweet.

Feeling Kist

Life circumstances are such lately that I have been able to witness anew what it means to see God's provision. I believe the math goes something like this:
Need + Prayer = Opportunity

I am so used to finagling things to work out - I need something, so I find it on sale, on line, whatever. Well, with adjusting to a home mortgage, I'm learning that I can't always just go out and buy something. (Wouldn't my husband be glad to read those words!)

I mean, God doesn't want to bother with the little affairs of running a household, right? Sure, He cares how I spend my time, that I have a Bible time, that I pray, that I treat my husband well, etc., etc. But how much does He really get down into the inanities of the workings of my life?

Well, I'm learning in a whole new way that He delights to give us good things. Think of that! God isn't all about taking things away from us; He gets excited when He gets to bless us! I've probably taken away a lot of His opportunities to bless me by my ability to go get what I want/need. (Now there's a sobering thought.)

One way I saw this was in my desire for a simple little kitchen tool. Being a newly-wed, there are still a few gaps in my household equipment, and one that was noticeable was an old-fashioned Kitchmajig. My mom had one, and I had used it often for cooking, and I was missing it.

So, I found it on Amazon! Hooray! But, for some reason, I could never justify adding it to my order.

So I went without.

I had thought about it on and off for awhile when, one weekend, I was perusing the city garage sales. Wouldn't you know it, in a box of free kitchen items lay a humble kitchmajig.

I praised God for that funny little blessing.

I don't know that I even thought to ask Him for one.

Another time, I was wishing for a good Dutch broom. We were cleaning out our shed on the back of our property with a simple lonely broom, and I couldn't help think how much easier it would be with a push broom.

Later, I was downtown in the hardware store. The clearance tables beckoned, and I happened to notice a small version of a push broom leaning against it. I shrugged and figured it wouldn't hurt to check the price tag . . . and I think God must have laughed at my expression when I read the word "FREE"!

It turned out that the broom head had been laying around the store for a while, and they had a regular broom that had broken, so they took the stick from the latter and stuck it with the former, and - bada bing, bada boom - God had a broom for me.

Okay, so they're stupid little things. But every time I use my kitchamajig, and especially every time I see that little Dutch broom, I thank God for caring about my petty little needs and wants and for stooping down from His throne to surprise me with His generous abundance.

The Joys of Homemaking

Well, we have been settling into our new house!

Unpacking didn't take long, but every now and then I find a box of items in a closet that need an official home. My husband and I are settling into a routine of sorts, filled with work, dishes, cooking, cleaning, making little changes and fixes, etc., etc.

Dave Ramsey would be proud of our budget meetings. Money issues scare the starch out of me, so my favorite plan of attack is avoidance; but the ominous "M" on the calendar's last Tuesday of each month keeps us accountable, and I am finding out that things are much less stressful when we know how much is coming in and when/where it's going out. Still, I have had to adjust to a new way of thinking of money - I used to deal with it in terms of tens of dollars. Seventy dollars for groceries, twelve dollars for my monthly share of our family phone plan, forty dollars for a school text book . . . now, however, money tends to leave in hundreds, whether it is for groceries, insurance, mortgage payments, house bills, and on and on.

Living in town hasn't had a steep adjustment curve, and the folks here have been so kind. We have felt so welcomed by our neighbors - I especially enjoy chatting across the lawn when a neighbor and I are both outside at the same time.

Having our own home makes us feel so rich - and aren't we? Sure, things might be tight and we save for what we want, but to have four walls around us that have our name on them . . . it's just cozy. I marvel at all God provides. As Thanksgiving draws near, I become more and more grateful for the refuge we have found in this place - a place of healing from yesterday, of hope for tomorrow, and always, always of gratitude for today.

One Month

We just passed the one month mark in our marriage. How strange to think that we will only count up - never down - again in our relationship. But it is a good sort of strange!

A few firsts to have come about in our first month:

• my first chance to completely organize a home (the kitchen was especially fun . . . the rest is still in progress). A bit overwhelming at times, but worth it in the end.
• my first prolonged experience at menu planning. My cooking has generally met with success, but it has also included . . .
• my first major misjudgment on cooking time. The chicken didn't thaw as quickly as I thought it would, which meant it didn't cook as quickly as I thought it would, which meant that our main course consisted of squash and bread and apple crisp, with baked chicken for dessert.
• my first school loan payments. Yippee.
• our first budget (which didn't crash and burn as badly as we thought it would, yet I learned how quickly unexpected expenses like to raise their ugly heads!).
• our first time inviting people to our home!

Thankfully, this list doesn't include our first fight; we took care of that a while ago! :) Seriously though, there is a sort of relief to not have that looming overhead.

Something God has been impressing upon me lately is the blessing of my own insufficiency. During college, I could keep my chin above the water, and people generally believed that I was doing so with ease. I sometimes floundered and panicked, but overall I found the ability to pull myself up by my proverbial bootstraps and stay on the successful side of the grading process. I could make myself look good and get the credit for it, too. But this homemaker thing is different.

A couple weeks ago, I felt overwhelmed by all the new responsibilities. I would get up in the mornings and go at it and not feel like I had really gotten anywhere by the time I laid down at night. In homemaking, there is no deadline when you don't have to think about that project anymore. There is no final test when you can leave that topic behind forever. There is no last day in the semester and the promise of a final grade that pulls you through like a light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, dishes are constantly needing washing, the floor seems to grow dirt by itself, dirty laundry regenerates, and don't you know that nothing cleans itself! The clean socks have been in that basket in my living room for days and they still haven't figured out how to find their match!

Yet, this time of finding myself fundamentally lacking is also a blessing.

If I have everything in hand, where is room for God to work?
If I am successful at all I do, what has God done for me?
If I am wrapped up in my work and busy acing this wife/homemaker thing, how has God moved in my life?

When I can't do it and can't keep up and can't find the strength, I get to see God.

He works when I can't anymore.
He acts on my behalf when am unable to do it myself.
He moves and displays His strength when my strength is gone.

You know, I cannot figure out why I run myself ragged so often trying to prove myself. It is more fun to get to see God in all His grace and power, after all.

Is my stubbornness/determination coming between me and my experience of God's majesty?

Does God care about housework?
I think so.

And I am trying to learn to fall to my knees more quickly rather than flailing to keep my feet under me. After all, which is more important to me: the power of Christ or my stupid pride?

Is the key to success in the Christian life admitting to being an utter failure? (Hmm, that echoes the beatitudes.)

I'll gladly wave my white flag if it means that He gets the control and the glory in my life.

Although, I'm fresh out of white flags. Maybe one of these socks will do.

The Gift of Sleep

I have been reminded lately of how good is every little gift from God - even the ones for which we often forget to thank Him.

Someone once said, "Money can buy a bed, but it can't buy sleep." As I've been wrestling for the last week with not being able to fall asleep and waking at odd times for an hour or more at a time, I realized that I took sleep as a personal right, as something that I should just expect. Perhaps, I'll give a cursory prayer on the pretense of asking for a good night's rest, but it was just a pretense because I never really considered that sleep might not be mine upon command.

Sure, I've had rough nights before, but a whole string of them is frustrating. I started getting more tense at night, feeling more desperate to sleep, watching the hours slip by - precious few allotted to me for the purpose of sleeping. I would get my chance to rest each night, but morning brought the dread of the alarm as I rose more frustrated and tired than when I had laid down.

Finally, I slept through the night last night.

You can bet I thanked God.

Maybe I'll get to thanking Him for more things. But I hope now I'll start before He sees the need to remind me of a blessing through removing it for a time.