Thanksvember

"It's November, what are you thankful for?" My family has been asking that question and writing the answer on a piece of paper on the fridge (I know I could make a tree of thanks or some other awesome Pinterest find, but it's busy in our house and we just have to get to the point on this lesson!) I also try around this time to post on Facebook each day what I am thankful for. I don't think I have finished one whole November yet, but I am really trying this year! Some might think this is cheesy. Some may think 'trying' to be thankful is too forced. 

But I am of the belief that though sometimes being thankful is a joyful outpouring of your heart, more often it needs to be a discipline. 

Recently, I heard of a prominent young pastor who was diagnosed with cancer. He tells the story about how, after giving his 6 month old baby a bottle on Thanksgiving morning, he had a grand mal seizure. Brain scans showed a malignant mass that would give him only 2 to 3 years to live. 

It broke me. 

Maybe in light of recent events in my life the idea of how fragile life is has become so very real. In hearing his story I thought of my little family, of Kyle...what it would be like if he or I... I thought, "my oldest daughter is 3"...

I have never wanted to sweep my babies up in my arms so fast. You know, as a parent in a very busy season of life, battling tantrums and sticky fingers, you walk around in a fog. I think sometimes we need a wake up call that reminds us how precious the time is. This did it, and there was an outpouring of thankfulness coming from my heart. I was thankful my husband was healthy. I was thankful I was healthy. I realized our lives are not guaranteed. And if I was given 2-3 years, how I would long to go the same park over and AGAIN, to get up at the crack of dawn with my girls, to not worry about the mess that was forming in my house if it meant I was playing doctor again with my preschooler. The sentiment isn't new I suppose, but this was a moment when thankfulness wasn't difficult. It came out of me like the flood of tears that accompanied it. 

Those moments are refreshing, even beautiful. They are like those moments in training for a half marathon when running feels effortless, like you could go on forever. But, as in running long distances, those moments wear off, QUICKLY. Your legs get tired, you're running into the wind, and the small but looong Iowan hills mock you. Just like life. So when the effortless thankfulness wears off, then is the time for discipline, for practicing the art of thankfulness even when you don't want to. 

I have been stuck on a part of the Bible in Philippians since the summer. It says:

"Rejoice! Again I say rejoice! Do not be anxious about anything but in everything by prayer with THANKSGIVING, present your requests to God and the peace of God, which surpasses understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy---think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me---put it into practice. And the peace of God will be with you." (You can find this Philippians chapter 4)

"When I run out of joy, and motivation, turning to my un-joyful, unmotivated self is not going to produce those things. You simply cannot look for resources where there are none." 

At this point in life I am not out of the circus of toddlers and preschoolers, but I am trying to remind myself that all the crazy is normal, that I love my children even when it feels like I want to run from them, and above all, that it really doesn't last forever, even though sometimes it sure as heck feels like it will. I tell myself the same thing I do when I am running 7, 8, 13 mile long runs, "You can do this woman!"

But, giving myself pep talks often fails me in life's roughest moments. Why? There is no substance. It's just me, powerless me, trying to pick myself up. When a lawnmower runs out of gas, it doesn't turn to itself to refuel. It needs an outside source to give it more fuel. When I run out of joy, and motivation, turning to my un-joyful, unmotivated self is not going to produce those things. You simply cannot look for resources where there are none. 

So I have decided to put away the ridiculousness of trying to build up my broken self with my broken self and instead to look to the ONLY one that can heal, rebuild, and refuel us, (and the only One who can do it beyond measure by the way.)

"As we mold our lives into one's of practiced thanks, and raising our hands to God for help, those lives also begin to be characterized by peace because the Lord pours it into us abundantly and we no longer need to strive to fill ourselves."

That is what I read in the book of Philippians. That, when life gets tough, asking God for help, with an attitude of gratefulness, brings peace into our lives. The part of that scripture that floors me is when the author says, 'put it into practice.' Being thankful to God does not come naturally. It has to be practiced. It's a discipline, an art. This relieves me because now I know when things go wrong, and I'm not all like, "Hallelujah! Praise Jesus I locked my keys in the car with my children! (or insert something more serious here)" I rest knowing it's normal not to have that reaction. But then there is also the greater responsibility of learning to choose to be thankful, to hone the discipline of gratefulness. 

That's what floors me. What fills me is that as we mold our lives into one's of practiced thanks, and raising our hands to God for help, those lives also begin to be characterized by peace because the Lord pours it into us abundantly and we no longer need to strive to fill ourselves. 

*Special thanks to Kerry Doyal for the title of this article!