Happy Thangstgiving

Yeah, that's right:  Thangst-giving.

thangst • giv • ing:  (noun) The expression of gratitude while simultaneously feeling anxious or apprehensive.

We needed this word, so I made it up.  We do this.  We say "thank you" to our doctors who are giving us the worst news.  We say "thank you" to loan officers, auto mechanics, tax auditors, and dentists.  We say it at job interviews and performance reviews.  My students say it when I hand them a test.

Thank you for word play.

"Thangst" springs from our rote, automatic response to receiving something, even if it's bad.  The hope of a Year of Gratitude is that we discover that every moment of our lives is filled with the Lord's blessings, and that's cause to be joyful.  Moreover, letting the people around us know how much joy they bring us spreads the gratitude around.  So, how does thanks-without-joy fit into the year?  Is "thangst" [this is difficult to type with auto-correct fully operational] real?  Does it count?

Thank you for auto-correct and its many incorrect corrections.

Well, I am about to Give Thangst.  In 5 minutes from now, the driver training instructor will drive up and take Lindsey away on her first two-hour behind-the-wheel lesson.  Am I anxious?  Am I apprehensive?  Yes.  [For my readers in France, Germany, Romania, and Russia, that's oui, ja, and da].  And I'm thankful, as well.  I am thankful that someone trained will be responsible for teaching my daughter to drive.  I'm thankful that I will not.

Thank you for driving teachers around the neighborhood.  Thank you for readers around the world.

So, right now, Lindsey is out driving without me.  She is in traffic, not in an empty parking lot.  She is making left turns [I need to stop before my blood pressure goes through the roof].  And I'm here on my sofa, lifting them both up in prayer.  Worried as I am, I am still WAY more sane here than I would be in the passenger seat.  This is some serious thangst.

Thank you for wine.

You will find yourself about to say "thank you" for something you don't really want.  There will be a radiology technician pressing and squeezing you into a mammogram machine.  An insurance representative will explain how much your auto insurance will increase when you add your teenager to the policy.  The pharmacist will hand you a gallon jug of "cleanse" before a colonoscopy.  Go ahead and say "thank you."  In the midst of your angst, give thanks.

Thank you, service workers everywhere, who do the difficult jobs with understanding and empathy.  Thank you, God, for "thangst," the near-compulsion to be thankful in our darkest moments.