Thankgiving In and Out

Chapter 7 – Seeing through the glass

As I turned the pages of chapter 7, I felt both touched and inspired as we began with the “profanity” of toast at the breakfast table. I realized that I have been seeking to fill the ugliness of life with beauty.

 On page 124 Ann writes, “The parent must always self-parent first, self-preach before child teach, because who can bring peace unless they’ve held their own peace?  Christ incarnated in the parent is the only hope of incarnating Christ in the child…” I truly believe this applies to us in our daily living no matter whom we are dealing with, whether it be a child, a friend, a neighbour, a co-worker, or simply a stranger we pass by.  We must be in constant practise in our Christian walk.  Admittedly I have reacted poorly a few (more like a few too many) times, like Ann says “pain drives us to the mad acts.”

I believe Ann’s understanding of the need for her own life to have Christ incarnated within has enabled her to have grasped a key for hoping to see Christ incarnated in the lives of her children.  One of the striking books that I read this fall spoke a great deal about how rarely do our children (or maybe whoever else may live with us – a roommate, spouse, other family members) see an influence of our faith upon the day-to-day living.  AND what’s very freeing about our own efforts to daily have Christ shape and mold our lives is that as long as we continue in the battle and are honest and repentant when we fail in the struggle, that there is always hope and opportunity to grow.       

As the story develops Ann takes time to stop and deliberately pause to give thanks for the two boys and writes, “Thank you that You don’t leave us in our mess.  My heart rate slows.  Something hard inside softens, opens and thanks aloud feels mechanical.  But I can feel the heart gears working.”

There is something about the power of words spoken aloud, something about hearing it while saying it and having shaped the phrases in our minds that helps it to go deeper in our hearts.

We pick up on page 128 and my very own light bulb turns on and for me this is the “ah hah” moment.  “…steady breathing a rhythm of grace-give thanks (in), give thanks (out)…Beauty in ugliness.”  This journey has not simply been about trying to record one thousand gifts, it has been a life change.  A change in posture, giving thought to the way we act and react.  A daily practise we must devote our attention too, that very moment to breath thanks. Our mindset will change, the burden will lift, the ugly will become beautiful.

Have you tried it, giving thanks, in the midst of the ugly yet?  Thanking God for a spouse to have this particular disagreement with, children who have lungs healthy enough to rail against you, a home to call your own that you have the strength and ability to clean and maintain, too much food in your refrigerator so that your clothing feels a bit snug?  Everything that can be ugly in the moment has the ability to transform us and to bring glory to God.

On page 133 Ann writes, “Learning slowly to not be so reactionary while inserting verbal gratitude into stressful situations is almost like being healed of mental blindness.  I have begun to ‘see’ again.”

May God help us to see his hand in our stressful moments, his work that he is accomplishing in the ‘big picture’ of our lives and how our reaction may influence the ability of others to see him at work in these moments.

In closing, Ann records those precious teachable moments of real life and how they come directly from scripture.  She has received the gift of her son watching her ‘hunt’ for blessing after blessing and has the opportunity to extend the invitation on page 139, “You want to – want to practise eucharisteo with me?”

How about it sisters, do you want to practise eucharisteo with us?  “…give thanks (in) , give thanks (out)” (p. 128)

In thanksgiving,

MM and MS