November 6, 2011

thanking in the week ...

Some days the thanking comes harder than others.  Some days I don't even want to thank.  There is something sinful in me that wants to wallow, sometimes, something that shrinks whining from the light of the freedom that gratitude brings, and wants only to peer into the dark.

I'm on my fourth child.  Many have borne more than me, in quantity and "quality", if you know what I mean.  I wouldn't dare to try to claim that I've the heaviest load to bear.  But for me, for now, this load is some days all that I can carry - more than I can carry.  And I forget, sometimes, Him on whose shoulders the government rests, who offers to bear the load with me, to share the yoke, to catch my tossed-on-him cares, to care for me and give me rest for my soul.

I forget.

It was one of those days today.  The fourth child is birthing his own fourth, an eyetooth.  Stubbornly sensitive, lingering, that pearly little gem will not emerge.  The tender bud that will be gets in the way of everything he wants to chew: toast, beloved apples, even cheese.  Understandably, he resents that.  Unfortunately, he resents it loudly.  Unrelentingly.  Even in the middle of the night.

I don't know how many times we heard him last night.  At first, forgetting how it works with him, we went to him, all sympathy and warm comfort.  He hushed to our caresses ... until we laid him down.  How he wailed.  No one had e're been wronged like he had.  To be left alone!  In flannel-sheeted crib with special plush blanket!  (Compared to Mama's arms, it was a hardship).

By morning we were wearied, equally from his whining wails as from lack of sleep.  Some "extra" hour we'd had.

But gamely we pulled ourselves together and went to church.  All teary-prone, my "fine" fooled no one, and a few listened with sympathy to tales of teething, and remembered.

Later, when I had rested, I flipped some pages in my notebook and pen in hand began to think.  In all my weariness and utter, pathetic lack, what is there to be thankful for?

God's always good:  there's always something (usually more).  Here's what I found, today, bleary-eyed (and wanting only what I couldn't have: cease of pain):


391 - sympathetic ears

392 - hope for a new day tomorrow (and a better night tonight!)

393 - teachings of truth

394 - their delight in braided loaf, with butter and cheese

395 - long afternoon of quiet

396 - wealth of persimmons, overflowing baskets despite the birds

397 - the good-humored chuckle amidst all that whining

398 - wooden puzzles

399 - pampas grass swaying, shining silken in the sun

400 - sunlit life

401 - smart-alecky husband (but you're right, dear, I wouldn't want you any other way!)

402 - wool sweaters and afternoon coffee

403 - an outside for them to play in!

404 - "this too shall pass"


(my own refrain of praise, from #1 till now ....)




5 comments:

  1. well done on the hard eucharisteo- it is sometimes on the hard days that I cling to my gratitude journal- it's the only thing that keeps my head above water. praying for you in this season. blessings from Uganda

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  2. Thanks for the encouragement! The thanking really helps, on those dark days, to lift my eyes toward whatever is "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent & praiseworthy" ... and lifts my spirits, too. Ann started a good thing!

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  3. very nice post thank you for sharing...God bless you

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  4. This too shall pass, and eyeteeth will give way to wisdom teeth, and you'll wonder where did the time go. Enjoy now. It is the only now you'll ever have, dearest.

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  5. Thanks, faith-hope-love, and blessings back to you.

    You're right, of course, whatintheworld, and that is why I'm working on my 1000 gifts: to keep me focused on the nows, even the hard ones. We were just talking about wisdom teeth the other day around the dinner table. Time does fly, and what better way to catch it than in the net of gratitude.

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