I don’t wake up in a good mood. I’m not proud of my Eeyore-like disposition, but I’m typically drowsy, grumpy, and quick to grumble about everything from the weather to my wardrobe at 6:30 AM. My sweet, early-rising, morning-person husband told me recently, “I don’t kiss you goodbye in the mornings right now because I’m afraid you’ll get mad.” He knows not to mess with a sleeping tiger.
He’s especially afraid of the tiger this week since our elementary school is closed again for illness. We haven’t had a normal 5-day school week since early December. Grumble, grumble. Our 2nd Grader has started waking up and visiting our room multiple times a night. Grumble, grumble. I don’t know how to help my 5th Grader understand fractions. Grumble, grumble. And it’s cold and cloudy outside. Grumble, grumble.
Maybe not coincidentally, I’ve stumbled on several reminders this week to be more grateful instead of grumbly. Tragic news stories that accentuate the brevity of life, old photo albums that remind me how fast time flies, and a quote that I want to frame.
“We can only be said to be alive
when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
{Thornton Wilder}
Last year I read a book called Soul Keeping by John Ortberg. In one of the chapters he talks about gratitude saying, “The truth is, all of us can get so caught up in ourselves that we too often don’t take the time to be grateful—to God and to others. ‘Why my soul, are you downcast?’ the psalmist asks. Maybe it’s because you are not feeding it with the gratitude it needs.”
Ouch. Ortberg goes onto talk about something called The Eighteen Benedictions. This was a common practice of devout Jews in Jesus’ day. Three times a day—morning, midday, and evening—they would stand, facing Jerusalem, and pray eighteen times, “Blessed are you, O Lord…”
As a Protestant I’ve spent most of my life avoiding repetitious prayers and thinking of a benediction as nothing more than the closing of a prayer or a service. But the word benediction means “an expression of good wishes” (merriam-webster.com) or simply “good words.” And Ortberg says, “The Hebrew benedictions connected the gift with the Giver. It reminded the citizens of Israel that all that was good came from God.” Who of us couldn’t use this sort of audible reminder?
I don’t know that eighteen is a magic number, but I could sure stand to say more “good words” with intentionality throughout the day.
Instead of, “I have to walk the dog…”
“Blessed are you, O Lord, who gives me the health to get outside.”
Instead of my usual, “GIRLS!!! I’m about to lose my mind with you!!”
“Blessed are you, O Lord, for giving me these kids.”
Instead of mumbling to myself, “I’ve got to feed these people again already.”
“Blessed are you, O Lord, for the gifts of food and taste.”
As a reader and a writer I have always believed that words on a page have the power to change us and to change our world. I forget, though, that the words in my head or coming off my lips also hold that same kind of power.
I walk downstairs this morning, see this scene, and immediately think:
“Why is my snowman art upside down again??”
“Why are you upside down??”
But maybe today I can push back against my every inclination, take a deep breath and say repeatedly:
Blessed are you, O Lord, for giving me a child who sees the world through a more interesting lens.
It feels as unnatural as standing on my head to say so. But I know, without a doubt, those are the good words. And I need to say a lot more of them.
I just received a card with this scripture on it…”Don’t take a single day for granted. Take delight in each light-filled hour.” I have hidden this one in my heart. Thank you, my dear friend, for your meaningful thoughts and words that are so beautifully said.
I find myself saying: “Why is everything so hard?–jars to open, lids to unscrew , this so hard to reach, and untangling another mess! Sometunes just the simplest chores loom big when you can’t bend as well, or grip as well. And I have to remind myself…O! just be glad you can walk, stand, eat, sleep, etc. etc.
i saw a documentary today showing a frightening typhoon hitting a village in the Phillipines . A Mother with 8 children were seeking shelter in a small church building about 15 x 15, with 90 people croweded in there! The father of this brood stayed back to see about their small one room hut and boat…He was caught up in it, tossed in the ocean, almost drowning, not knowing which way was UP! He survived, but seemed to be in a daze! An attitude of gratitude, was in order for me….and I keep counting my blessings! Your daughters keep us laughing, keep sending pictures! ha ha..