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Thanksgiving Fest Reflections of Gratitude: Day 1

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Cornucopia

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever. Give thanks to the God of gods, for his steadfast love endures forever. Give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his steadfast love endures forever; to him who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures forever; to him who by understanding made the heavens, for his steadfast love endures forever. Psalm 136

There is – a directive, an order, a commandment, to give thanks to God.  November offers us an official holiday to do just that. On Thanksgiving Day we are invited to pause, consider our blessings, and give thanks to God.

And yet – the Bible reminds us that one day each year is simply not enough. We need to give thanks and offer our gratitude to God every day.

Enter God’s gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him, bless his name.    Psalm 100

Scripture doesn’t offer the instruction to “give thanks” lightly. Developing an awareness of gratitude is not casually mentioned. We are given this directive multiple times.  I remember the wise words that one of my Bible professors taught in seminary – if a command is in the Bible once, we certainly need to pay attention.  If this command is in the Bible more than once, we really need to sit up and take notice.

So consider this. The words

  • Rejoice in the Lord
  • Give thanks to God
  • Praise the Lord

appear in the Bible over 300 times.

This is something important.

This is something we need to do.

We need to be intentional about giving thanks to God.  Not just being grateful for possessing a lot of things or even for having a family or friends who love us. We need to give thanks for the faithfulness and the presence of God who is with us in all circumstances – even (and maybe especially) when those circumstances are difficult or challenging. We need to cultivate an awareness that even when everything seems to be falling apart, God is still there.

This month, let’s practice the art of giving thanks.  I am inviting you to a “Thanksgivingfest.” The purpose will be to intentionally give thanks to God every single day during November. I would encourage you to make a list that you can add to every day. How and where you make your list is up to you – you can type your list on your computer or tack a piece of paper up on the refrigerator or make notes on your phone. The important thing is to take on the discipline of giving thanks every single day.  Morning or evening, it doesn’t matter – just set a few moments aside each day to consider the question, “What am I thankful for today?”

You are invited to be on this journey with me as we practice the discipline of daily giving thanks.  Feel free to record your blessings there, as well – wouldn’t it be wonderful to fill cyberspace with words of praise, gratitude and thanksgiving!

Come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!   Psalm 95

You’re still the one

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Sue and Roger with Bubbe. October 20, 1991
Sue and Roger with Bubbe. October 20, 1991

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.   Song of Solomon 6:3

An open letter to my husband on our anniversary.

Dear Roger,

24 years!  On this our anniversary day, I’m looking back on some of my favorite memories.

  • I remember meeting you at a contra dance at a church in Worcester. My two friends ditched me at the last minute, so I decided to go by myself. I was so glad when you asked me to dance; the song was (appropriately enough) “Swing my Susie.” During a lemonade break in the church kitchen, you mentioned that you would need to sit out the next dance because you didn’t know how to waltz. I knew you were someone special when you were willing to practice waltzing amidst the oversized pots and pans, laughing as we avoided stacks of dishes and random piles of vases.  My journal entry from that night reads, “Met a cute guy with a nice smile and dark, sparkling eyes.”
  • I admired your courage when you told me on our second date (cross-country skiing in the sleet and rain, remember?) that you were Jewish. You assumed it would be a deal-breaker for me, this minister you had just met. When you told me that a message of compassion and caring was important to you but that you didn’t care if the messenger was Jesus, Moses, or Buddha, I knew we could make this work.
  • And five weeks later, we were engaged.

We got married on a Sunday. Very early that morning you came to the parsonage to wake me up.  We walked to the church together just as the sun was rising, shining on the autumn leaves. The empty sanctuary was filled with a golden light as we said our wedding vows to each other.  We considered ourselves married at that moment – which was good, because when we gathered that afternoon with our family and friends, I couldn’t remember my vows at all!

One of your promises was to make me laugh every day – and you have been true to your word.

I celebrate some of our “firsts”

  • Our first restaurant together: Friendly’s, for a cup of coffee after the contra dance.
  • Our first date: Thai food, followed by the play “Driving Miss Daisy”
  • Our first fight: When you ate the chocolate chips I had set aside for baking.
  • Our first holiday together: Easter (which you didn’t even celebrate!), getting ready for my whole family to come for Sunday dinner after worship.
  • Our first hot air balloon ride: over the Berkshires, on our honeymoon.

During our first December together, we bought a menorah so we could celebrate Hanukah. At Christmas a few weeks later you gave me a quote by Katharine Hepburn: “Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get – only with what you are expecting to vie – which is everything. What you will receive in return varies. But it really has no connection with what you give. You give because you love and cannot help giving. If you are very lucky, you may be loved back.”  We’ve both been very lucky.

In February 1993 I went on a week-long silent retreat.  I told you that we could have no contact with each other; the only reason you could call was if you heard any news about our much-anticipated adoption.  You called with joy in your voice,“Our son was born!” So our parenting adventure began; I am blessed to have such a good partner who is also an excellent father.

Mostly I don’t have the words to describe how grateful I am for our love.  That’s why I like the quote by Brian Andreas that hangs in our bedroom: “I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand and the Eskimos had one hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep – and there are no words for that.”

24 years!  And hoping for at least 24 more.

You’re still the one. And we’re still having fun.

Happy Anniversary, sweetie.

And here’s our song.

The Joy of a “comfort book”

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Illuminated Life by Joan Chittister
Illuminated Life by Joan Chittister

“Comfort, yes, comfort my people, says your God.”  (Isaiah 40:1)

What do you do when you need comfort? Where you turn when you feel stressed or overwhelmed?

  • Some people go for a walk or do some gardening.
  • Others turn to “comfort foods” (think M&M’s, for me…).
  • There might be the temptation to self-medicate with pills or alcohol (I don’t recommend this – it ends up hurting too many people).
  • I once heard an actor talk about the “comfort movies;” he watches films he knows will reliably lift his spirits or make him laugh.

When I am searching for a “no calorie” way to calm my mind, restore my soul, and feed my spirit, I often turn to a “comfort book.”  I am basically too cheap to actually buy books but I am fortunate enough to serve a church that sits across the town common from our public library. Usually I simply borrow any book I wish to read.

But there are certain books – those comfort books – which I have purchased over the years because I know I will turn to them again and again. My stash of comfort books are in the bookcase by my bed – they are within easy reach so I can grab one and let it fall open anywhere. Most of the books are so familiar that I don’t need to read them cover to cover any more. There is an eclectic mixture of devotionals, a few novels, and even some children’s books – there is nothing like a chapter of Winnie the Pooh to bring me straight back to my safety and security of my childhood when things are spiraling out of control.

One book that reliably offers me inspiration and remind me of God’s presence is Joan Chittister’s Illuminated Life: Monastic Wisdom for Seekers of Light. Sister Joan is a Benedictine nun who shares her insights and wisdom on-line (http://joanchittister.org ) and through her writing.  Illuminated Life offers 26 reflections (one for each letter of the alphabet) which encourage readers to intentionally seek God in every circumstance.  This book is just right for me – each reading is long enough to provide some food for thought, but short enough to fit into my time-crunched day. I love the reminders like…

  • A = Awareness, to “see everything in life as sacred” (23).
  • G = Growth, because “union with God is not a static thing” (50).
  • S = Silence, which is a “lost art in a society made of noise” (106).
  • Z = Zeal, which brings us to God, “the energy that drives us” (136).

This book encourages me to be “contemplative” in the midst of a busy life.  Being contemplative has nothing to do with a somber, dour life filled with silence and ritualized prayers. Instead, it is an active, joy-filled invitation to search for God now, in the middle of whatever chaos you may be experiencing, because surely God is there.

Life can be overwhelming, tiring, and discouraging. This book is a celebration of God’s faithfulness. It reminds me that God wants to be found/discovered/experienced by us every day.

And that offers me great comfort.

Loving my differently colored sons

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This is a reflection that I wrote for the Kenyon College Literary Journal, Beyond Walls.  I wanted to share it with you here…

Child hands painted in colorful paints ready for hand prints

I have always assured my children that I love them equally. And that’s true. But I also love them differently. As a white mother of my biological, white son and of my adopted, dark-skinned son, I have had different worries about them as they have matured into young men.

They have grown up in the same household, under the same rules, surrounded by the same caring congregation in a tightly knit New England village. And yet they have had vastly different life experiences.

There was the time when my adorable Bolivian baby, tucked into his stroller with his chubby cheeks ringed by a mop of curly dark hair, was viewed with disdain by a passerby. “He isn’t from around here, is he?” declared the man before he huffed away, apparently concerned that his white town was being tainted by this newborn. It was just a sentence lobbed at us, but it made its impact and it hurt.

Then there was the time outside of a movie theater when my dark-skinned son ran ahead of me to claim the “shotgun” seat in the car. Intent on his goal, he squeezed past a man who wheeled around, face full of anger, and shouted, “Hey, darky! I ain’t scared of you! You think you’re so tough? Come on!” My gentle, not yet teenage son was the one who was scared. This experience was topped only by the time when he was walking our dog not far from our house and someone stopped their car to ask if he belonged in this neighborhood.

All of this was a learning curve for me. My eyes were opened to experiences that I didn’t even realize existed. Where had I been? Hadn’t I been paying attention? And yet if I only had a white-skinned son, I’m not sure I would even today be aware of the vast differences in individual life experiences that are based solely on a color spectrum.

I don’t have to warn my white-skinned son not to wear a hoodie, to keep his hands visible on the steering wheel if he is pulled over by the police, or to be cautious about who he dates, lest he experience the reaction of an overly protective white father or brother.

I love my sons equally. I just wish the world could see them as I do, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them differently. 

Bumper Sticker Wisdom

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Bumper Sticker Coexist

I love bumper stickers. Those short, pithy sayings that can make me laugh – or think.

One of my favorites questioned, “Where are we going?  And why are we in this handbasket?”  It makes me smile whenever I think about it.

Or the bumper sticker that reads, “Knock, knock.  Who’s there?  Doctor.”  Coming from a family of “Doctor Who” fans, I like the subtlety.

Or the sticker that I saw in traffic the other day, “I’m not lost.  I’m exploring.” It’s a good attitude, even when it isn’t true.

I know people criticize what is often labelled “bumper sticker theology,” the temptation to define complex subjects with the briefest phrase.  But sometimes a short quote can provide much food for thought.

Here’s one that I like:

Love God. Love your neighbor. Save the world. (Episcopal Church)

Now, I know you could argue with that. You might say, “It makes it sound too easy.” If you could engage the bumper sticker in conversation, you might want to raise topics like multi-cultural differences or gun violence or even about that annoying woman who sat next to you on the bus.  But bumper stickers aren’t about dialogues.  At their best, they remind us of what is true.

With just 8 words this bumper sticker describes an entire way of life.  Love God.  That’s first. Then – Love your neighbor. Because that is what God tells us to do.  If we do those two things – which are not easy and which we will fail spectacularly at many times each day – we will change the world.

Try it. Express your love for God through gratitude and thanksgiving.  Take a few moments to think about your blessings today and give thanks.

Try to love your neighbor – not just someone next door, but also the person you live with, or the sullen store clerk, or the over-worked waitress, or micro-managing boss, or your petty cop-worker, the relative who calls too often or who never calls at all…you get the idea.

Those actions, given to God, will change the world. Notice – we don’t have to change the world ourselves (that would be a lot of responsibility). We need to live the way that God tells us and trust that God can use those actions.  God will change the world, with us and through us.

Or – to use another bumper sticker to say it another way:

To believe is to care. To care is to do.  (United Church of Christ).

Let’s not make faith more complicated than it is. Let’s allow God’s love to move us to action.

Where do you hear God?

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http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBZqkFq6yD4

In Tacoma WA there is a man who plays “Taps” on his trumpet every evening at sunset. He stands out on his deck overlooking the water and lets that melancholy, poignant tune float over the neighborhood. It is a gift offered to anyone who will take even a few seconds to listen.

I remember learning “Taps”as a Girl Scout; we would our long summer camp day standing around a campfire singing, “Day is done, gone the sun, from the lake, from the hill, from the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.” The simple song had the power to calm giggling pre-teens and offer a sense of peace that carried us to bedtime.

The trumpeter’s Washington neighbors say how much they appreciate this nightly ritual. “People stop what they are doing.” “The music washes over me.” They use words like “beautiful, emotional, moving.” In this busy suburb, the music reminds them to slow down, breathe, and take a moment to reflect.

My Girl Scout days are long gone.  Now I am much more likely to hear “Taps” played by a graveside as I preside over memorial service honoring the life and death of a military veteran. That invites another level of reflection as we give thanks for a life completed, a life that included service and duty.

I believe God speaks to us in a multitude of ways every single day. If we’re too busy, we won’t notice. If our lives are constantly filled with noise, we won’t hear. But if we pause, if we listen,  if we take the time to listen and to notice, our spirits can be touched by the music of God, which comes in many forms.

Where do you hear God?

Where do you find God?

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Flower growing through concrete

Where do you find God?

Summer was busy, the fall will most likely be even busier. We can race from one event to another, blindly following our calendar’s command to fill our days with meeting, sports, and family obligations (not to mention work and household chores).

How do you feed your spirit in the midst of the busy-ness?  Where do you find God when you are on the go?

This poem speaks to me. I often feel closest to the Creator when I am in the creation – outside, perhaps in some green pastures or by some still waters, enjoying the gifts of nature.

The Peace of Wild Things

BY WENDELL BERRY

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. 

This past weekend I had just a brief opportunity to go kayaking.  I was out on the water for a total of about 15 minutes, but it was not the amount of time that was important to me.  It was simply being on the water,listening to the rhythm of the paddle as it scooped the water and moved me forward.  it was the pleasure of gliding silently by some ducks who were feeding in the shore grasses.  It was a few precious moments in an otherwise action-packed weekend when I could be alone and have the opportunity to soak in the beauty of the day.  Those 15 minutes reminded me of the presence and the power of God.  I carried those moments with me during the less-serene parts of my day – driving through traffic, rushing to get dinner on the table, and saying a final “good-bye” to summer vacation as all three children headed back to college.

Where do you find God?  The Good News is that God wants to be found by us.  We just need to take the time to look. And to listen.