I was waiting for the right moment to write about gratitude. I was waiting for a high which would have the words tumbling out faster than I could write, like the time a bald eagle landed in our back yard and patiently posed for pictures. But it could have been a beautiful vista or sunset. I kept waiting. And I noticed that the moment I was looking for, a moment that delights and surprises and reassures wasn’t happening.
But then something did happen.
I think it may have been a long drive at rush hour through Atlanta. I realized that gratitude is something we may need to reach within ourselves to recover. We don’t live on mountaintops. And we can find ourselves losing our appreciation and sense of wonder.
The Psalms (66 and 103) encourage us to count our blessings. They move us from finding gratitude in happy surprises to an intention to be grateful and appreciative in all things. It is the cultivation of gratitude. It is making gratitude a part of who we are. Counting is such a simple suggestion, yet effective.
It doesn’t mean that we become pollyannish or deny serious challenges in life or in the world or fail to apply ourselves to things that need to be addressed. It means instead that we do not let them eclipse, overwhelm or define how we interpret and experience life. What a tragedy it would be to be defined by worry or disappointments or bad experiences. Negativity can take up too much brain space, too much life space.
Moreover, things for which we are grateful don’t need to be invented. Some may be small, but satisfying. Some may draw us outside of ourselves and make us aware of what is unchanging or beautiful around us. A flower can make us grateful for its delicacy, its scent, and its colors. Nature, life, relationships, talents, learning, giving, all can offer us so much for which to be grateful. It is a sad irony that someone playing golf can become so frustrated with shots that the beauty all around is missed. I need to remember that.
Cultivating gratitude gives us resources for dealing with life.
It creates reserves that keep us from despair or negativity and invites us into hope. It invites us into a bigger story than the experience of a day or a season. It is a part of growing our soul. During the season of Covid, I found that one of my greatest consolations was to see what was growing in our garden. The plants didn’t notice Covid. Instead, they reached into the soil for nutrients and received the sunshine and water and they grew and bore fruit. Such a small thing. So wondrous and hopeful.
The Lord’s prayer ends with words which Jesus didn’t teach. The prayer, as Jesus taught it, ends simply with the words “Deliver us from evil.” But later, followers of Jesus added these words “for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever.” They can be understood simply as a closing, not unlike words of some Old Testament praise. But because Jesus taught the Lord’s prayer before his death and resurrection, (events understood as deliverance from evil), the words added to the prayer function not only as praise, but also as the expression of gratitude. It is the last word. And the right response.
