With Thanksgiving Day situated toward the end of the year it’s natural to reflect back and take stock on the cumulative blessings of the year.
I believe in gratitude, I believe that focusing on all that we have to appreciate is a worthy practice no matter what, and especially valuable in times of heartache. So, this November I’ve been on a quest to find my gratitude and to meditate on the good in the world and my life.
What I have found is much like what I imagine finding gold to be like. I’m busy looking for something sparkly and clean, clearly beautiful and valuable. What I find is specks in an ordinary rock, stuck in the mud. It’s valuable, but so much more complicated than I expected.
I don’t remember the last time our family had a “normal” year. A year in which we didn’t go to bed on New Year’s Eve ready to bid good riddance to the heartaches of previous twelve months. And I don’t remember a Thanksgiving on which we didn’t have a lengthy list of things that make our hearts swell with gratitude. The problem is that too often the hardships cover the blessings, disguising them and making them look less valuable.
Looks are deceiving.
Nothing nothing will undo the pain of living through tragedy. This year our blessings, which are many, are shrouded in heartache. But they are there. They’re beautiful and worthy and wonderful. It takes work to reach into the mess and pluck them out of the yuck and clean them up. I find myself reluctant to start because the dirt looks like how I feel.
This year my gratitude is grubby, but it is there. It’s going to be a work in progress, but I don’t want to be so overwhelmed by the mess that I don’t even try.
My giving of thanks will be subdued, I might not be able to muster effusive delight over the many things in life that I have to be grateful for. Rather, I will be intentionally noting the beauty around me, seeking it out and tucking it away in the depths of my heart, where it will fortify and warm me in the days to come.