For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.
Familiar words, once commonly spoken at the start of every meal in many homes around the world. I suspect the habit of "saying Grace" is falling away. Why, when it is so easy?
Isn't it easy to be "truly thankful" when what you "are about to receive" is delicious and plenty, and around you sit the smiling faces of your loving family? Thank you, God, for this moment, and this meal, and these people.
For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.
What if "what we are about to receive" is something else? If you are a family of one sitting down to a lonely meal or a large family without food enough to fill every hungry stomach, being truly thankful is no small task. Thank you, God, for this moment, and this meal, and the hope and promise of a new and better day.
What if it isn't a meal at all? Can we be truly thankful even when what we are about to receive is heartbreaking and painful? It is an awful challenge. Thank you, God, for being with me in this moment, for the strength to bear it, for the lessons it holds for me, and for the power to change the world.
Perhaps this simple grace should begin my every day. For what I am about to receive, whatever it is, may the Lord make me truly thankful.
Amen.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 29, 2012
The Countdown Is On
Tomorrow is the last Sunday in 2012; it's the day when Pastor Steve will first speak to the congregation about this Year of Gratitude theme. Then the mission will get fully underway the following Sunday, the first Sunday in 2013.
As the Christmas season comes to a close, and I finish re-reading A Christmas Carol, I think Charles Dickens was no stranger to the year of gratitude. Every year at Christmas all the various versions of his ghost story are played out on the many cable tv networks. My favorite is the "Muppets Christmas Carol" for its brilliant casting of Fozzy Bear as Mr. Fezziwig and Miss Piggy as a saucy Mrs. Cratchit. At the finale, Gonzo as Dickens says if you liked this story, read the original. So I did, one year, and I have been doing so every Christmas since then. I personally find Patrick Stewart's Scrooge to be the most faithful to Dickens's text. His first laugh upon his rebirth is just as Dickens describes: "Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh." Stewart gives us the sense that he has been drowning for years and has surfaced at last.
So? Well, Scrooge promises to "honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." He lives out his days with the thankful heart of a man cast out of Hell into God's Kingdom on earth. This requires more than just feeling thankful or even saying "thank you." He lives out his thanks in acts of kindness and generosity. "He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old City knew, or as any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old world."
So I am ready to get started. I want to try this year of thanksgiving. I hope it will become a year of thanks-living.
As the Christmas season comes to a close, and I finish re-reading A Christmas Carol, I think Charles Dickens was no stranger to the year of gratitude. Every year at Christmas all the various versions of his ghost story are played out on the many cable tv networks. My favorite is the "Muppets Christmas Carol" for its brilliant casting of Fozzy Bear as Mr. Fezziwig and Miss Piggy as a saucy Mrs. Cratchit. At the finale, Gonzo as Dickens says if you liked this story, read the original. So I did, one year, and I have been doing so every Christmas since then. I personally find Patrick Stewart's Scrooge to be the most faithful to Dickens's text. His first laugh upon his rebirth is just as Dickens describes: "Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh." Stewart gives us the sense that he has been drowning for years and has surfaced at last.
So? Well, Scrooge promises to "honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." He lives out his days with the thankful heart of a man cast out of Hell into God's Kingdom on earth. This requires more than just feeling thankful or even saying "thank you." He lives out his thanks in acts of kindness and generosity. "He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old City knew, or as any other good old city, town, or borough in the good old world."
So I am ready to get started. I want to try this year of thanksgiving. I hope it will become a year of thanks-living.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Christmas: A Crash Course in Saying Thank You
This Year of Gratitude (YOG) hasn't been launched officially, yet, but the day after Christmas seems the right time to begin saying thank you.
My husband, Drew, and my daughters, Jeannette and Lindsey, thoughtfully selected gifts for me that demonstrate how well they know and understand me.
Drew essentially reads my mind. I refused to give him any list of things I desired for Christmas. He had to figure it out. We've been practicing, though. Many mornings Drew will pour me a cup of coffee and ask which coffee mug I want or which flavored creamer. I always say, "guess." It's not that I don't have a preference. I absolutely know which mug and which creamer I want. This is high stakes morning coffee. Drew hasn't gotten it wrong yet (even though the answer changes from day to day). So he was ready for the big leagues.
What I really needed was new pajamas, and I would've gotten them myself, but I despaired of ever finding the perfect ones in time. They needed to be lightweight, because the number of comforters and blankets that make our bed the comfy cloud of slumber paradise that it is precludes the wearing of flannel pajamas. Also, the top had to be just a black v-neck t-shirt made of a soft cotton-poly blend, because the heavy Beefy-T t-shirts weigh me down and restrict the free roll of dreamy tossing. This definition of the perfect pajamas formed in my mind as I drove home alone from my last trip to the mall. Drew had completed his shopping the day before. And on Christmas Day, among the many wonderful gifts--including a lovely sparkly heart necklace that I secretly desired--I opened a package containing the perfect pajamas. Is that love? Or is it a little creepy?
My daughters and I have a tradition of shopping at the mall together and then separating--the girls pairing up to find their gifts for me. Before you call Children's Services to report me for abandoning them at the mall, I should note that this tradition began when the girls were 12 and 17 and armed with cell phones. We're not talking babies crying in the mall, "My mommy's lost!"
Well, this year we separated at the mall, and Jeannette and Lindsey spent the afternoon together in perfect accord and cooperation, selecting all the right scarves and candles and scented oils to delight their mom. I love my gifts. But I love, more than anything, their sisterhood. It isn't always evident. They haven't spent large amounts of time together, their age difference placing them at different developmental stages, and their tastes being almost completely opposite. There were years when the older mocked the passions of the younger. Jeannette reminds me of the emotional fires that needed putting out. But now they are older, 16 and 22. The firestorm is out. They are nice. They are friendly. They have inside jokes. They help each other and bounce ideas off each other. They are building a sisterhood for their future lives, for adulthood. This is their beloved gift to me for which I am the most thankful. I hope it will be a gift to themselves as well.
So, thank you, family. Merry Christmas. I love you.
My husband, Drew, and my daughters, Jeannette and Lindsey, thoughtfully selected gifts for me that demonstrate how well they know and understand me.
Drew essentially reads my mind. I refused to give him any list of things I desired for Christmas. He had to figure it out. We've been practicing, though. Many mornings Drew will pour me a cup of coffee and ask which coffee mug I want or which flavored creamer. I always say, "guess." It's not that I don't have a preference. I absolutely know which mug and which creamer I want. This is high stakes morning coffee. Drew hasn't gotten it wrong yet (even though the answer changes from day to day). So he was ready for the big leagues.
What I really needed was new pajamas, and I would've gotten them myself, but I despaired of ever finding the perfect ones in time. They needed to be lightweight, because the number of comforters and blankets that make our bed the comfy cloud of slumber paradise that it is precludes the wearing of flannel pajamas. Also, the top had to be just a black v-neck t-shirt made of a soft cotton-poly blend, because the heavy Beefy-T t-shirts weigh me down and restrict the free roll of dreamy tossing. This definition of the perfect pajamas formed in my mind as I drove home alone from my last trip to the mall. Drew had completed his shopping the day before. And on Christmas Day, among the many wonderful gifts--including a lovely sparkly heart necklace that I secretly desired--I opened a package containing the perfect pajamas. Is that love? Or is it a little creepy?
My daughters and I have a tradition of shopping at the mall together and then separating--the girls pairing up to find their gifts for me. Before you call Children's Services to report me for abandoning them at the mall, I should note that this tradition began when the girls were 12 and 17 and armed with cell phones. We're not talking babies crying in the mall, "My mommy's lost!"
Well, this year we separated at the mall, and Jeannette and Lindsey spent the afternoon together in perfect accord and cooperation, selecting all the right scarves and candles and scented oils to delight their mom. I love my gifts. But I love, more than anything, their sisterhood. It isn't always evident. They haven't spent large amounts of time together, their age difference placing them at different developmental stages, and their tastes being almost completely opposite. There were years when the older mocked the passions of the younger. Jeannette reminds me of the emotional fires that needed putting out. But now they are older, 16 and 22. The firestorm is out. They are nice. They are friendly. They have inside jokes. They help each other and bounce ideas off each other. They are building a sisterhood for their future lives, for adulthood. This is their beloved gift to me for which I am the most thankful. I hope it will be a gift to themselves as well.
So, thank you, family. Merry Christmas. I love you.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
INTRODUCTION
Pastor Steve is launching a "Year of Gratitude" theme at Northridge United Methodist Church. We will be challenged with saying "thank you" to someone every day.
I remember thank you notes. I remember my mother making me write them. Birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, graduation gifts, wedding gifts. I didn't like writing them, but they fell into something of a template.
Dear [insert name],
Thank you very much for the [insert thing here]. It is just the right [size, color, something]. I can't wait to [wear, use, play] it when [insert time and place here].
And so on.
I know now that if I wrote them by rote, lacking true gratitude, perfunctorily, they were probably received in much the same way. So this year must be different. I don't want to just speak the words "thank you." I want to feel real gratitude and let people know they are truly appreciated.
Okay, I'm ready for this.
Oh, one unexpected downside: I thought about saying "thank you" to someone just yesterday and then wondered if I should wait until the new year.
I remember thank you notes. I remember my mother making me write them. Birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, graduation gifts, wedding gifts. I didn't like writing them, but they fell into something of a template.
Dear [insert name],
Thank you very much for the [insert thing here]. It is just the right [size, color, something]. I can't wait to [wear, use, play] it when [insert time and place here].
And so on.
I know now that if I wrote them by rote, lacking true gratitude, perfunctorily, they were probably received in much the same way. So this year must be different. I don't want to just speak the words "thank you." I want to feel real gratitude and let people know they are truly appreciated.
Okay, I'm ready for this.
Oh, one unexpected downside: I thought about saying "thank you" to someone just yesterday and then wondered if I should wait until the new year.
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