forever // state of thankfulness: day five

Grateful. Love. Kindness. Joy. Things of this season.

The bow-tying, fancy wrapping, mall-speed walking, rush through parties time of year.

On this Black Friday with advertisements galore, lines like it’s the zoo and circus-oriented theatrics of children in a toy store, take a minute to slow. breathe. To remember yesterday, or at least the name — thanksgiving. And may we give thanks.

For what we have before we buy. The time we have before it’s filled. The love, kindness and joy that brings the warmth of the holiday season to mind.

So before we forget about yesterday and these lists of thank yous, gratitude and gratefulness we’ve been thinking about for the last few to twenty days, may we remember that this is more than just a day. May these lists and heart-preparing days become the way our hearts are attuned to this next season and year.

The deeper things of thankfulness — peace, rest, joy, content hearts — these are not simple words, but ways to live. So may we give thanks, be thankful and rest in peace, joy and love all the days of our lives.

In what ways can you pause before getting caught up in the season? What would you like to reflect on?

*Photo taken in Arrowhead in fresh snow in 2011.

simplicity // state of thankfulness: day four

Stuffing I disliked at the age of seven that I now have an affinity for filled my plate next to Aunt Laura’s broccoli casserole and carved turkey — cooked based on an Alton Brown article my Dad read this morning. We had forgotten coffee creamer, the turkey went in the oven late and my Mom cancelled an order for an apple pie at 7 a.m. because she didn’t realize I’d made one. It was hot and sunny.

We hustled in the kitchen barefoot and in pajamas and everyone arrived on time, which means a half-hour late.

With football in the background, Grandma shouts for the men to enter the dining room because food is getting cold. I, myself, yell into the other room that we’re saying grace, someone mutters it wouldn’t do them any good anyhow. We laugh, start filling our plates and later I realize we never even said grace. Family quarrels diffuse — at least while everyone’s mouths are full of turkey, gravy and potatoes.

Everyone mumbles or shouts their compliments to appropriate chefs of their filled forks and spoons of Thanksgiving delicacies. Probably the only day we would call these dishes delicacies. But it’s tradition. And they are so, because without them, it just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving.

Simplicity is the gold today. I go back to merci, danke sehr, and the rest — the simple few words. And in my mind, I go through my thank yous. Thank you, Jesus, I breathe out after I realize we missed grace. We missed grace for exactly what I’m thankful for — living. Thank you for life and for the hope I find in you, for today is simple and love-filled in it’s own way of imperfect, forgetfulness and burnt on the bottom dishes. Hugs and kisses on the way out the door. And awkward family moments. Laughter, joy and family you haven’t seen in too long. Lounging, leaning on another's shoulder and for me, asking how this game called football is played again. The simplicity of anything goes.

This week I’ve made thankfulness sound a bit complicated at times. Investigating my own soul for the deeper meanings, what thankfulness means, is, was and will be. How it affects our souls. Those deep things are there. They are gold. But tonight, I was reminded that thankfulness in simplicity is gold too, and simplicity today was living in the hope of Christ and little reminders of his grace and blessings. Even in the shape of a Turkey that went into the oven too late.

What are you thankful for today? And what was your favorite dish at Thanksgiving dinner?

*Photo of our family recipe brioche rising.

full // state of thankfulness: day two

If thankfulness truly seeps into my bones, muscle and tissue, it will guide my heart and body to the core of my being, home to truth, love and grace. A home known as God, center and rock. Full. 

I can’t help, but reflect on the middle three letters in “thank-ful-ness.” To wonder if when we say thank you, are in a state of thankfulness, that we may feel full.

Isn’t that what we so often seek? To be filled. With good, or bad. We immerse ourselves in what makes us feel whole — the internet, eating, volunteering, sex, marriage, academics …

The holes within our souls grow deeper and wider and our passage through life slowly brings them to light despite our efforts to fill and hide.

And when that light reveals our wounds, insecurities and faults, it’s like an overhead spotlight on our deepest, darkest places — the ones you wish never existed and hoped to God would never see the light of day. But there they are. Gaping, staring, revealing. Too big to fill. We grab our shovels and desperately move dirt into those places that seem six feet under. Or fatigued, we curl up on the floor.

Sometimes, we continue in these patterns for quite some time. Years even. However, eventually I believe God swoops in, swiftly or slowly, and brings us to grace. Leading, guiding or carrying … and we begin to see those holes lessen and learn to live newly.

He brings us to fullness. We begin to open to fullness.

I don’t believe saying one or two thank yous will fill ourselves to the point of healing. Or rid the act of wanting to hide our deep, dark places. However, I do believe that one or two thank yous with a little reflection can be the start of recognizing a new way of being. A way to open and be thankful, grateful, and possibly a little bit more full.

I’m convinced that many split second thank yous and greater moments of reflection will bring us to a fuller sense of our state of thankfulness and begin to open us to a greater sense of fullness in Christ.

We will begin to be truly thankful.

Could reflecting on thankfulness open you to more fullness in Christ?

*Photo taken at Hilltop Retreat Center in Fall 2011.

state of thankfulness: day one

Merci. Danke sehr. Grazie. Gracias. Thank you.

It’s simple, really. Few syllables. Easy to say. Often ends with a curl of the sides of my mouth into a slight smile.

Joy. It does something. Saying that simple grateful phrase does a work in me.

Amidst a day that's completely gone wrong, my arrogant sense of importance or a bad attitude, saying thank you lets in goodness ... it lets in hope. Altering my perspective, even if for a moment, being grateful creates a pause. It makes me take a second … reflecting on the interaction that may have occurred or will occur. We are thankful for the past or the future. It’s as if we are thankful for the ability to say those words.

Really, being thankful is a state of being.

Sure, we say thank you to the grocer who bagged our items on our way out or quickly take change from the man in the green apron behind the counter at Starbucks. We say thanks to a co-worker when they help us on deadline or breathe, “thank you, Jesus” when we find just what we need in the nick of time.

It’s quick, fleeting, seemingly meaningless. Especially amidst our rush, suffering or busyness. But I come back to this: I take the time to say those few words. They are not forgotten. They take mere seconds to mouth out, but took a realization that they needed to be said. And generally, even if my moment of gratefulness is fleeting, momentary or secondary to what I’m doing — it brings me back to center. It reminds me that I am in a place to say thank you. And for a split second, thankfulness becomes first.

For me, saying thank you reminds me of whom I am. It reminds me of the person I want to be. It reminds me of my center. Thankfulness allows me to be present.

Being thankful is a state of being. My hope is that my state of being would be more and more centered on gratefulness this week and of course, beyond. That those seconds will become moments and those moments will become minutes and those minutes, hours. I hope that myself and this world may become more present in this state of being, of being thankful, that we may mirror a gratefulness to each other so great, we bring each other back to center — that we may remind one another to pause and reflect for what we do have to be thankful. And ultimately, that we may lead one another back to the cross that gives us life, for which gives us the opportunity to be thankful in the first place.

This week, I challenge my state of being. I challenge myself to be in a more consistent state of gratefulness, allowing space and time to be grateful — allowing thankfulness to be my state of being.  And therefore, allowing more joy, grace and love to seep into my bones. To continue to bring myself and others back to center.

For what were you thankful today? And in this moment, what are you thankful for?

In hope, I will be posting a new reflection on thankfulness each day this week.

*Photo taken at my home last fall.