Thankfulness

One of the things that has really helped change my attitude in the past six months is God is teaching me to be thankful. Really thankful. Jesse's grandma died in April, and at her funeral, I was really hit hard by the fact that everyone said how thankful she was for everything. I never got to meet her, but they read some of her journal pages, and they weren't exaggerating. From the birds to the flowers to her pajamas to getting to worship God, MawMaw lived a life of thanks. It hurt when I realized no one could say that about me. It wasn't that I wasn't thankful for what I had. I was. I was also angry about what I didn't have, and that got in the way of my remembering to be thankful. I decided I would be thankful, too. Of course, we had a terrible week that week. Our car broke down. Three or four other things happened, I don't even remember what, but I know several nights ended with me in heaving, gulping sobs. I was just overwhelmed by our circumstances. Yet, each day, God gently reminded me that being thankful when things are perfect isn't much of a challenge. It's those days when your car breaks down and you pay to fix it only to have it stop working again. Days when your husband can't find a work shirt because you haven't been home to do laundry. Days when you don't even know what you're going to have for dinner because you're dealing with all this stuff and you feel bad and all you want to do is sit on the couch with your husband and cry. Those are the days you're supposed to be especially thankful. Days I have to be especially thankful. I have a car, only four years old, and it's completely paid for. I have the means to buy Jesse an extra shirt when we don't have time to do laundry. I have food in my freezer. Money for McDonald's if that's what it comes to. A couch to cry on, and a husband to cry with. Mostly, I have a Jesus who holds every tear I cry in His hands. Even the stupid tears I cry when I'm just tired. :)

About four weeks after MawMaw died, the tornado hit. We were suddenly living out every disaster movie we've ever seen. Much to my MIL's chagrin, we don't keep convenience foods or water or anything at our house. I know, we should, but we don't. We had a couple boxes of cereal and some granola bars, and WalMart was closed. Everything was crazy, but for us, it wasn't so bad. Jesse was off work the night it happened and the next night so that I wasn't scared and alone in the dark. We could make it to Mom and Dad's if we needed to. We were safe. Our families were safe. Our jobs were safe. Our homes were safe. The truth is, in those first couple of days, Jess didn't even miss a hot meal. We were blessed beyond belief, and I didn't know why, I just knew that we were. When we started working with the church, it was a little overwhelming. We were standing in the midst of utter devastation, and there wasn't much we could do about it. I remember being overwhelmed, and a little scared, but God said, "I didn't say do it all. I just said do what you can, and I'll do the rest." He did. Ephesians 3:20-21 says, "Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, 21Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen." That's what He did. Above and beyond anything we imagined He'd do, He did. I spent six weeks in awe of how big our God is, how great and mighty, how in tune with our needs, and I can only pray that He got the glory from what we did. It was beautiful. We fed, quite literally, God's children. Well, I didn't so much. Since I was coordinating, I mostly talked on the phone, but I coordinated feeding God's children. :)

I am reminded every day to be thankful for what God has given me. I'm thankful for Jess, for our home, for his job, our car, our furbabies. I'm thankful for our families, for my parents who spent a good part of those six weeks taking care of the things I was supposed to be taking care of while I helped at the church. For my in-laws who spent those six weeks working with us. For our siblings and grandparents. Without the support of our families, I wouldn't have been able to do it. I called my MIL and told her I wanted to help, but I couldn't do the physical stuff, and she and my BIL and my FIL (when he didn't have to work) came everyday they could. For six weeks, they were the hands and feet of Jesus because I wanted to work and couldn't do the hard stuff. I am thankful that God sustained me through those weeks. I claimed that He would when we started, and He did. I hurt, I was tired, but I could get up and be there. I'm thankful that I got to experience what He poured out on us. I can't imagine letting my disability rob me of those blessings. Those moments, as crazy as they were, were some of the most precious moments I've ever experienced. I'm thankful that God has put into our lives people who understand both my limitations and my desire to serve.

I'm not angry anymore. Well, mostly. :) No, actually, I'm not. Sometimes, I get tired, and when I get tired, I'm like a two year old without a nap. I might have cried all the way home Sunday about being tired of being sick. It's true. I get tired of hurting. I get tired of not being sure my legs will carry me. I get, and y'all are gonna love this, tired of being tired, and I get tired of all the other symptoms I don't name because it's not important to write out a laundry list of what's wrong with my body. :) I am thankful God has allowed me to be in a position where I can love my husband, our families, our churches, more deeply than I could if I was healthy and had to work. I am thankful that He teaches me more about Him because I need Him extra to get through my days. I am even thankful for my physical discomfort because He truly has blessed us. However, it's not tons of fun to be surprised every day by which parts of your body will and won't work. It complicates things a little. So, when I get super tired, sometimes I cry and moan a little. I bawled for about 5 minutes, apologized to Jess (and Jesus...), and it was over. The difference is, 5 minutes of crying did not turn into six weeks of moping and serious depression. I'm okay with a couple minutes of sobbing and asking God why. I think He is, too. It's a process. He made me human, and I'm not perfect (and if you don't believe me, you can ask my husband). What matters, though, is that after I dry my tears, I understand that God has a plan for this, even when I can't understand it. You wouldn't believe how much easier that makes being thankful.

Thankfulness is an intentional characteristic, I believe. It takes practice. It takes patience. It takes remembering that God knows you personally, intimately, and He knows what hurts you and what concerns you, and He loves you anyway, and what's more, He sent His Son to die for you. How can you not be thankful for that?