You Never Know Until You Try.
My apologies that I haven't blogged in a while. When I did part 1 of "Letting Go and Letting God," I had no idea that there would be a part 2, much less a part 3, which there may be. I haven't decided yet. I thought I was on the mend from my bout with “the crud.” Alas, that wasn’t the case. I ended up with a sinus infection, which meant another round of antibiotics. Then I had oral surgery, which had been postponed for 2 weeks while I had “the crud,” last Thursday. I’ve had lots more time on the sidelines. I’ve gotten more sleep and more time just lying in bed thinking of nothing but how much I wanted to be—and feel— well again.
And so here I am, 2 days shy of 5 weeks since this whole saga of sidelining sickness (say that fast 3 times, will you?) began. I’ve had lots of reminders of how much I’m loved: friends have called, sent cards, and brought care packages. The big reminder came last Thursday after my surgery.
I drove myself to and from the procedure 25 miles away, intending to return home, take the prescribed pain medication, and probably sleep until noon the next day. No big deal. But as Steinbeck said, the best laid plans . . . The reality was that I couldn’t seem to stop bleeding, and I was fast succumbing to the sedating effects of the pain medicine. So I did what any other independent middle-aged woman might do—I called my mommy and daddy. After all, it’s scary to discover that you can’t stop bleeding when you live alone and are doped on medicine that’s making you woozy, feeling that you may fall asleep at any moment. I was freaked out, so I reached out.
Thankfully only a few miles separate my house and my parents’ house. Mother picked me up, and I ended up spending the next 2 nights with her and Dad. I finally got the bleeding stopped Thursday night, after a good 6 or 8 applications of damp tea bags to the surgical site, and I guess the adrenaline from my freak-out kept me from conking out until I’d been at my folks’ an hour or more. When I did sleep, though, I was out a good 15 hours or so.
I awoke Friday hung-over but not bleeding or in too much pain. I started bleeding again once, but it didn’t last long. I could’ve gone back home, but my retired parents, Mother especially, were glad to have me around. Since I’d been sick for so long, I hadn’t visited in quite a while, and it turned out to be a good visit, considering. We didn’t do anything major; we just hung out, talking and watching TV. Dad took me home late Saturday afternoon, and we’ve kept in touch by phone since then.
I was glad to have the time with my parents, even under those circumstances. God knew that I would need their assistance, and He gave me the sense to reach out and ask for their help. I wish I could say that I hadn’t freaked out, but at least I reached out too, and I got the help I needed. Ask, and you receive.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Letting Go and Letting God
You Never Know Until You Try.
Like many people in my area, I've recently been felled by a respiratory bug. Despite a trusty standby antibiotic that usually gets rid of anything that plagues me, I've been fighting "the crud" since January 7. I'm better, but I've still got a long way to go. At least it feels that way. I hope this will be one of those times that the glorious dawn breaks suddenly, wiping away all vestiges of the proverbial dark, stormy night.
As you can imagine, I've put a lot of things on hold, spending most of my time just trying to survive. I've had to put my job search on hold for the most part, relying on the recent footwork I've done to bear fruit. It looks like it may do just that; I'm cautiously optimistic.
During my many hours in bed, some actually awake, I've thought a lot about the fact that I'm having no choice but to put into practice the old adage "Let go and let God." There's nothing like being physically sick and unable to "do (my) part" to remind me that it's really God who makes things happen. He just allows me to do my part--what He's instructed me to do, and hopefully nothing more. He's the real "mover and shaker," not me.
Problems arise when I try to push things in the wrong direction or move too fast or lag behind. Fortunately, He's gracious enough to gently correct my course if I let Him, and He uses all kinds of things to do it. Since everything works together for good if we love Him, that means even sickness. I've been so freaked out lately, about so many things, that I've been praying hard for peace. I'm not saying that He allowed me to get "the crud" to give me peace, taking my mind off my financial and professional situation, but I'm not ruling it out, either, because while I've been extremely uncomfortable, I've also slept a lot and dreamed a lot. Sure, I've thought about the financial and professional issues, but they haven't consumed me--wanting to feel human again has. I've prayed about the job situation, but I've really prayed to recover physically.
I've taken my medicines, slept, eaten, and stayed hydrated. Very basic stuff. I haven'f felt like agonizing mentally about how sick I've been. In short, in a weird way, I've had peace. Maybe it's the peace I've prayed for. I've known for a long time that God really does answer prayers in ways we don't expect.
My refresher lesson in this is that I need periodic reminders to "Let go and let God." I hope I don't need another reminder for a very long time.
Like many people in my area, I've recently been felled by a respiratory bug. Despite a trusty standby antibiotic that usually gets rid of anything that plagues me, I've been fighting "the crud" since January 7. I'm better, but I've still got a long way to go. At least it feels that way. I hope this will be one of those times that the glorious dawn breaks suddenly, wiping away all vestiges of the proverbial dark, stormy night.
As you can imagine, I've put a lot of things on hold, spending most of my time just trying to survive. I've had to put my job search on hold for the most part, relying on the recent footwork I've done to bear fruit. It looks like it may do just that; I'm cautiously optimistic.
During my many hours in bed, some actually awake, I've thought a lot about the fact that I'm having no choice but to put into practice the old adage "Let go and let God." There's nothing like being physically sick and unable to "do (my) part" to remind me that it's really God who makes things happen. He just allows me to do my part--what He's instructed me to do, and hopefully nothing more. He's the real "mover and shaker," not me.
Problems arise when I try to push things in the wrong direction or move too fast or lag behind. Fortunately, He's gracious enough to gently correct my course if I let Him, and He uses all kinds of things to do it. Since everything works together for good if we love Him, that means even sickness. I've been so freaked out lately, about so many things, that I've been praying hard for peace. I'm not saying that He allowed me to get "the crud" to give me peace, taking my mind off my financial and professional situation, but I'm not ruling it out, either, because while I've been extremely uncomfortable, I've also slept a lot and dreamed a lot. Sure, I've thought about the financial and professional issues, but they haven't consumed me--wanting to feel human again has. I've prayed about the job situation, but I've really prayed to recover physically.
I've taken my medicines, slept, eaten, and stayed hydrated. Very basic stuff. I haven'f felt like agonizing mentally about how sick I've been. In short, in a weird way, I've had peace. Maybe it's the peace I've prayed for. I've known for a long time that God really does answer prayers in ways we don't expect.
My refresher lesson in this is that I need periodic reminders to "Let go and let God." I hope I don't need another reminder for a very long time.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Happy New Year!
You Never Know Until You Try.
I pray 2011 is better for us all than 2010 was and encourage everyone to forget what is behind and press on to what is ahead! Yes, I'm preaching to myself most of all here! Here's my sermon for Jacline: Forget the bad of last year and don't let it hinder my faith this year, and don't rest on my laurels from last year, but strive to be the best I can be this year.
I pray 2011 is better for us all than 2010 was and encourage everyone to forget what is behind and press on to what is ahead! Yes, I'm preaching to myself most of all here! Here's my sermon for Jacline: Forget the bad of last year and don't let it hinder my faith this year, and don't rest on my laurels from last year, but strive to be the best I can be this year.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Bookends
You Never Know Until You Try.
There’s a verse in the Bible that says we should rejoice and be glad in the new day the Lord has given us, but lately, though I’d like to say that I’ve felt that way, I haven’t. I’ve been trying desperately to, but I haven’t managed it in quite a long time. Each day brings more of the same: finding very few jobs that look even remotely feasible. It’s depressing to know that I’m not alone in this slow boat to nowhere. I know of someone who has said that she doesn’t really want at least 99% of the jobs she’s applying for but she knows that she has to have something. I think more of us have been there than we care to think about. May God help us all!
Trying desperately to figure a way out of this mess, I’ve been doing a lot of self-examination lately. It’s kind of what we do as one year draws to a close and another one dawns. We begin and end each year with introspection and, hopefully, prayer. Though I begin and end each day with prayer, I’ve almost always had my main prayer and Bible study time at night before going to sleep. I can think of several reasons: there just seems to be more time at night; my grandmother did it that way; and mainly because I started the practice as a teen when it became obvious that lying down at night didn’t mean that my mind got the message that it was time to sleep. That’s when it seemed that my mind was determined to do what it wanted to do, which was keep me awake thinking. It didn’t matter how much I tried to focus on relaxing and getting to sleep. It wasn’t happening. I found that praying and reading my Bible and devotional materials helped me calm the “what if’s” and “if only’s” that often tried to keep me awake.
As you can imagine, the “what if’s” and “if only’s” have gotten more frequent and insistent over this last year of post-graduation job hunting. The other day, facing another day of seemingly futile efforts to find a decent job, feeling hopeless, I found that “just” praying wasn’t calming me much. I grabbed my Bible and started reading and finally found enough peace to start the day. I didn’t get a job that day, but I found that “bookending” (is that a word?) my day with not just prayer but also with Bible reading made me feel a lot better. Duh!!!!
Putting books between bookends keeps the books upright, making their titles easier to read, and it protects them from damage. Likewise, “bookending” my day with Bible reading keeps me upright and helps protect me from Satan’s attacks. When they come, I’m much stronger and better equipped to fight. Scripture tells us that Jesus is the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, so it makes sense to carry that into everyday life by reading the Bible in the morning and at night.
Sure, “just” praying helps, but it’s easy for prayer to turn into a meltdown session of worrying about things, telling God what I want and how unhappy I am with my situation instead of praising Him and thanking Him for countless blessings. Reading Scripture takes me more out of myself and helps me focus on Him, which is where my focus should be in the first place. Another lesson from this wilderness.
There’s a verse in the Bible that says we should rejoice and be glad in the new day the Lord has given us, but lately, though I’d like to say that I’ve felt that way, I haven’t. I’ve been trying desperately to, but I haven’t managed it in quite a long time. Each day brings more of the same: finding very few jobs that look even remotely feasible. It’s depressing to know that I’m not alone in this slow boat to nowhere. I know of someone who has said that she doesn’t really want at least 99% of the jobs she’s applying for but she knows that she has to have something. I think more of us have been there than we care to think about. May God help us all!
Trying desperately to figure a way out of this mess, I’ve been doing a lot of self-examination lately. It’s kind of what we do as one year draws to a close and another one dawns. We begin and end each year with introspection and, hopefully, prayer. Though I begin and end each day with prayer, I’ve almost always had my main prayer and Bible study time at night before going to sleep. I can think of several reasons: there just seems to be more time at night; my grandmother did it that way; and mainly because I started the practice as a teen when it became obvious that lying down at night didn’t mean that my mind got the message that it was time to sleep. That’s when it seemed that my mind was determined to do what it wanted to do, which was keep me awake thinking. It didn’t matter how much I tried to focus on relaxing and getting to sleep. It wasn’t happening. I found that praying and reading my Bible and devotional materials helped me calm the “what if’s” and “if only’s” that often tried to keep me awake.
As you can imagine, the “what if’s” and “if only’s” have gotten more frequent and insistent over this last year of post-graduation job hunting. The other day, facing another day of seemingly futile efforts to find a decent job, feeling hopeless, I found that “just” praying wasn’t calming me much. I grabbed my Bible and started reading and finally found enough peace to start the day. I didn’t get a job that day, but I found that “bookending” (is that a word?) my day with not just prayer but also with Bible reading made me feel a lot better. Duh!!!!
Putting books between bookends keeps the books upright, making their titles easier to read, and it protects them from damage. Likewise, “bookending” my day with Bible reading keeps me upright and helps protect me from Satan’s attacks. When they come, I’m much stronger and better equipped to fight. Scripture tells us that Jesus is the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, so it makes sense to carry that into everyday life by reading the Bible in the morning and at night.
Sure, “just” praying helps, but it’s easy for prayer to turn into a meltdown session of worrying about things, telling God what I want and how unhappy I am with my situation instead of praising Him and thanking Him for countless blessings. Reading Scripture takes me more out of myself and helps me focus on Him, which is where my focus should be in the first place. Another lesson from this wilderness.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Fish or Cut Bait (Tenacity Gone Wrong)
You Never Know Until You Try.
I had a conversation with someone recently in which “fish or cut bait” came up. I don’t know how often it’s used now, but most Americans under 50 have probably heard this little saying, which means recognizing when it’s time to continue on a course of action or change course, maybe even changing the intended destination entirely. If we’re fishing for wrong thing, tenacity can be a very bad thing. If we're fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a good thing. Beyond that, I think when we’re fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a “God thing.”
Hours after the conversation, during my bedtime devotional time, I started thinking how this idea of fishing or cutting bait has recurred in my life over the last year. I’ve had to cut bait once or twice. Obviously, it’s really important for everyone to listen to God’s still, small voice and to learn from experience; for a tenacious go-getter, it’s extra important. It’s all too easy to run ahead, using human wisdom, human logic, human fear, human strength, thinking that we know the answer. The catch is that we have to be teachable, or we won’t get anywhere. God can talk until He’s blue in the face, and it won’t do any good.
We plan, God laughs, right? I don’t know that I believe that. I know the wisdom behind the notion that He laughs at our plans—it’s because He knows the beginning, middle and end, and our plans, if carried out, might yield disastrous ends. That’s why I’m so glad that He speaks to us, gently directing our steps. Rather than laughing at us, I think it’s more likely that God mourns our stubbornness or lack of faith, shaking His head in frustration when we plug along, determined to make things happen that aren’t for our good but that we’re convinced we want or have no choice but to do. Sometimes we even get caught up in the “Do something, even if it’s wrong” mentality. I hate, abhor, loathe, detest, despise being in the "wilderness." And that’s where I’ve been the last year. At least I’m not in it alone.
This last year, while fishing for a post-degree job that supports me (and I, hopefully, don’t hate), I’ve also fished for God. I’ve yelled at Him, cried to Him, begged and pleaded, studied and prayed harder than ever before. It’s been messy—messier than literally thrashing around with a shark, but I’m still fishing. I’m fishing for peace; I’m fishing for knowledge of who I really am and Who He is; I’m fishing to understand what I believe about Him and where those beliefs are tainted by my experiences and Satan’s lies regarding those experiences.
It’s never time to cut bait when we’re fishing for God, trying to know Him better. And unlike real fishing for real fish, God bends over backward to be caught. After all, He's fishing for us.
I had a conversation with someone recently in which “fish or cut bait” came up. I don’t know how often it’s used now, but most Americans under 50 have probably heard this little saying, which means recognizing when it’s time to continue on a course of action or change course, maybe even changing the intended destination entirely. If we’re fishing for wrong thing, tenacity can be a very bad thing. If we're fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a good thing. Beyond that, I think when we’re fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a “God thing.”
Hours after the conversation, during my bedtime devotional time, I started thinking how this idea of fishing or cutting bait has recurred in my life over the last year. I’ve had to cut bait once or twice. Obviously, it’s really important for everyone to listen to God’s still, small voice and to learn from experience; for a tenacious go-getter, it’s extra important. It’s all too easy to run ahead, using human wisdom, human logic, human fear, human strength, thinking that we know the answer. The catch is that we have to be teachable, or we won’t get anywhere. God can talk until He’s blue in the face, and it won’t do any good.
We plan, God laughs, right? I don’t know that I believe that. I know the wisdom behind the notion that He laughs at our plans—it’s because He knows the beginning, middle and end, and our plans, if carried out, might yield disastrous ends. That’s why I’m so glad that He speaks to us, gently directing our steps. Rather than laughing at us, I think it’s more likely that God mourns our stubbornness or lack of faith, shaking His head in frustration when we plug along, determined to make things happen that aren’t for our good but that we’re convinced we want or have no choice but to do. Sometimes we even get caught up in the “Do something, even if it’s wrong” mentality. I hate, abhor, loathe, detest, despise being in the "wilderness." And that’s where I’ve been the last year. At least I’m not in it alone.
This last year, while fishing for a post-degree job that supports me (and I, hopefully, don’t hate), I’ve also fished for God. I’ve yelled at Him, cried to Him, begged and pleaded, studied and prayed harder than ever before. It’s been messy—messier than literally thrashing around with a shark, but I’m still fishing. I’m fishing for peace; I’m fishing for knowledge of who I really am and Who He is; I’m fishing to understand what I believe about Him and where those beliefs are tainted by my experiences and Satan’s lies regarding those experiences.
It’s never time to cut bait when we’re fishing for God, trying to know Him better. And unlike real fishing for real fish, God bends over backward to be caught. After all, He's fishing for us.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Prayer and Prejudice, and A Little Pride
You Never Know Until You Try.
I encountered someone engaging in one of my pet peeves this week. It’s something that’s rampant in our world even though we’re so inundated by politically correct language and—supposedly—behavior that we sometimes don’t even notice it. Here in America, “the land of the free,” we’re not supposed to have discrimination (or prejudice, which means the same thing, just minus the action) based on race, sex, age, weight, religious practice, and so forth, but we all know that we do. Sometimes it’s blatant, but I think most of the times it’s subtle. It’s just there, set up in our system of “the way things are done.” I repeat: institutional discrimination is subtle because it’s just understood to be the way things are. Satan is, after all, extremely subtle, as we’re told in Genesis. While I despise unfair, mindless, arbitrary prejudging, which is what prejudice is, I can muster more respect for someone who is open about his or her prejudices than sor someone who hides them. At least then I know what I’m up against.
I’ve observed so much subtle discrimination over the years that it caught me by surprise when I was on the receiving end of a blatant discriminatory practice this week, and I’ve had to remind myself that Jesus calls us to pray for those who persecute us and bless those who curse us. (Matthew 5: 44). At the time, I handled the face-to-face situation fairly well, though not as well as I would've liked. I wasn’t as bold as I wish I’d been. Later, once I was alone, Satan made sure to appeal to my pride by whispering to me that it wasn’t fair, that I deserved better than I got in the situation, and that I should go back to the people involved and really give them have a good dressing down.
My flesh really wants to do that, but I know that harsh words will just stir up trouble. What I’m doing instead is praying for the individuals—and for myself. I want to be someone who gets a point across without resorting to using Satan’s tactics. He loves to cause trouble. Maybe God wants to handle this one without my “help,” or maybe He will urge me to go back and gently address the situation again. I haven’t gotten any clear instruction beyond the one to pray for those involved in the encounter. I’m doing that. I’m praying for institutional discrimination to not be the norm, and I’m praying for everyone to fight against it when they encounter it, because it hurts everyone. It devalues people made in God’s image, and when one person suffers, the ripple effect means that we all suffer.
I think life really is like “6 Degrees of Separation.” For
example, you may not be the one denied the job because you are a 55-year-old woman of color, but your therapist’s teenaged son may encounter her in traffic as she drives home from the demeaning job interview in which she’s obviously been discounted because of her age and/or her race. She’s distracted, not driving well, and the teenager, impatient to get to his destination, passes her when he shouldn’t. Another car is coming, and boom! You get the idea.
So, I’ll keep praying for all of us caught up in this world of imperfect people who judge others based on completely arbitrary things instead of, as Dr. Martin Luther King so eloquently put it, “ . . . the content of (their) character.”
I encountered someone engaging in one of my pet peeves this week. It’s something that’s rampant in our world even though we’re so inundated by politically correct language and—supposedly—behavior that we sometimes don’t even notice it. Here in America, “the land of the free,” we’re not supposed to have discrimination (or prejudice, which means the same thing, just minus the action) based on race, sex, age, weight, religious practice, and so forth, but we all know that we do. Sometimes it’s blatant, but I think most of the times it’s subtle. It’s just there, set up in our system of “the way things are done.” I repeat: institutional discrimination is subtle because it’s just understood to be the way things are. Satan is, after all, extremely subtle, as we’re told in Genesis. While I despise unfair, mindless, arbitrary prejudging, which is what prejudice is, I can muster more respect for someone who is open about his or her prejudices than sor someone who hides them. At least then I know what I’m up against.
I’ve observed so much subtle discrimination over the years that it caught me by surprise when I was on the receiving end of a blatant discriminatory practice this week, and I’ve had to remind myself that Jesus calls us to pray for those who persecute us and bless those who curse us. (Matthew 5: 44). At the time, I handled the face-to-face situation fairly well, though not as well as I would've liked. I wasn’t as bold as I wish I’d been. Later, once I was alone, Satan made sure to appeal to my pride by whispering to me that it wasn’t fair, that I deserved better than I got in the situation, and that I should go back to the people involved and really give them have a good dressing down.
My flesh really wants to do that, but I know that harsh words will just stir up trouble. What I’m doing instead is praying for the individuals—and for myself. I want to be someone who gets a point across without resorting to using Satan’s tactics. He loves to cause trouble. Maybe God wants to handle this one without my “help,” or maybe He will urge me to go back and gently address the situation again. I haven’t gotten any clear instruction beyond the one to pray for those involved in the encounter. I’m doing that. I’m praying for institutional discrimination to not be the norm, and I’m praying for everyone to fight against it when they encounter it, because it hurts everyone. It devalues people made in God’s image, and when one person suffers, the ripple effect means that we all suffer.
I think life really is like “6 Degrees of Separation.” For
example, you may not be the one denied the job because you are a 55-year-old woman of color, but your therapist’s teenaged son may encounter her in traffic as she drives home from the demeaning job interview in which she’s obviously been discounted because of her age and/or her race. She’s distracted, not driving well, and the teenager, impatient to get to his destination, passes her when he shouldn’t. Another car is coming, and boom! You get the idea.
So, I’ll keep praying for all of us caught up in this world of imperfect people who judge others based on completely arbitrary things instead of, as Dr. Martin Luther King so eloquently put it, “ . . . the content of (their) character.”
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving
You Never Know Until You Try.
We’re just a few days away from what I’ve heard called “Turkey Day.” Certainly, many of us in America traditionally consume turkey on the day officially known as “Thanksgiving Day,” but I hope turkey with all the trimmings won’t be what people focus on this Thursday. I hope everyone—religious or not, “spiritual” or not, Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic, whatever—will take time to focus on what they’ve got to be grateful (thankful) for. Yes, I hope everyone will realize that being “thankful” means thanking someone for the good, or at least for minimizing the bad, and really know Who that Someone is and will have a real relationship with Him. Relationships take time, and every relationship starts somewhere. Fortunately, our relationship with God starts with Him reaching out to us and not the other way around. All we have to do is accept His extended invitation. I hope everyone is open to hearing that invitation this Thanksgiving and Christmas season. It’s even better than receiving an invitation to the biggest Thanksgiving banquet ever. Actually, it is an invitation to the biggest banquet ever--the one we'll have in Heaven.
I’m sure I don’t seem very thankful sometimes. I’ve certainly been vocal, both in my blog and elsewhere, about the things in my life that I’d love to change: I’m still not working in a job that I like that actually supports me and am wondering why I went to the trouble and expense of getting a degree; I still don’t have a wonderful man to share my life with; I still hate the locality in which I live; I still drive a very old truck; my relationship with my mother still leaves a lot to be desired, yada, yada, yada.
But:
Though I’d love for most things in my life to be different, I’m thankful for the “good” and that God minimizes the “bad” while helping me through it. I have a degree, so theoretically my job prospects are brighter than if I didn’t; I like my own company and would rather be alone than be with the wrong person; at least I’ve got a home; my truck still gets me back and forth; my mother is still alive, so there’s still hope for us to have a good relationship. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The thing I’m most thankful for is that God loves me and will never leave me. Jesus promised, and He always keeps His promises.
It’s easy to focus on what we don’t like and would like (even dearly love) to change, on what’s “wrong” in our lives. We’re psychologically bent that way. It’s harder to focus on what we like and wouldn’t change, what’s “right” in our lives, but it’s worth the effort. It makes me feel better to do what the old hymn suggests and count my blessings. I can feel my muscles relax and before I know it, more often than not, I find myself crying—in repentance for my bad attitude, in gratitude for so many blessings, in humble prayer for others less fortunate than I.
I hope everyone has a blessed Thanksgiving Day and realizes how blessed they are!
We’re just a few days away from what I’ve heard called “Turkey Day.” Certainly, many of us in America traditionally consume turkey on the day officially known as “Thanksgiving Day,” but I hope turkey with all the trimmings won’t be what people focus on this Thursday. I hope everyone—religious or not, “spiritual” or not, Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic, whatever—will take time to focus on what they’ve got to be grateful (thankful) for. Yes, I hope everyone will realize that being “thankful” means thanking someone for the good, or at least for minimizing the bad, and really know Who that Someone is and will have a real relationship with Him. Relationships take time, and every relationship starts somewhere. Fortunately, our relationship with God starts with Him reaching out to us and not the other way around. All we have to do is accept His extended invitation. I hope everyone is open to hearing that invitation this Thanksgiving and Christmas season. It’s even better than receiving an invitation to the biggest Thanksgiving banquet ever. Actually, it is an invitation to the biggest banquet ever--the one we'll have in Heaven.
I’m sure I don’t seem very thankful sometimes. I’ve certainly been vocal, both in my blog and elsewhere, about the things in my life that I’d love to change: I’m still not working in a job that I like that actually supports me and am wondering why I went to the trouble and expense of getting a degree; I still don’t have a wonderful man to share my life with; I still hate the locality in which I live; I still drive a very old truck; my relationship with my mother still leaves a lot to be desired, yada, yada, yada.
But:
Though I’d love for most things in my life to be different, I’m thankful for the “good” and that God minimizes the “bad” while helping me through it. I have a degree, so theoretically my job prospects are brighter than if I didn’t; I like my own company and would rather be alone than be with the wrong person; at least I’ve got a home; my truck still gets me back and forth; my mother is still alive, so there’s still hope for us to have a good relationship. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The thing I’m most thankful for is that God loves me and will never leave me. Jesus promised, and He always keeps His promises.
It’s easy to focus on what we don’t like and would like (even dearly love) to change, on what’s “wrong” in our lives. We’re psychologically bent that way. It’s harder to focus on what we like and wouldn’t change, what’s “right” in our lives, but it’s worth the effort. It makes me feel better to do what the old hymn suggests and count my blessings. I can feel my muscles relax and before I know it, more often than not, I find myself crying—in repentance for my bad attitude, in gratitude for so many blessings, in humble prayer for others less fortunate than I.
I hope everyone has a blessed Thanksgiving Day and realizes how blessed they are!
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