Gratitude.

I wrote the following post in May. I'm deciding to publish it now.

Recent experiences and discussions with Tim have fostered an ongoing conversation in my head about gratitude. It is something I try hard to teach my children. You see, "the grass is greener" mentality carries with us into adulthood, if we don't suppress some of our urges to declare the unfairness of life in favor of gratitude. We can find ourselves drowning in a well of self-pity, which, let's face it, is downright depressing. All of us have circumstances in our lives that are beyond our control. Would we have chosen them? Probably not. Have we learned from them? I hope so. Is the end result good? I think it can be. But only, only if we are grateful.

I can think of a number of trials I've experienced, none of which I would have signed up for, had I known the pain they would cause me. I cried, I grieved, I felt I'd been dealt a bad hand. Was it wrong for me to feel that way? Absolutely not. Under the circumstances, I was completely entitled. But, at some point, the grieving can turn to bitterness, if we fail to see past the challenge itself and experience the healing and learning that is possible. It all chalks up to an attitude of gratitude.

I have two brothers who died prematurely - one of complications due to Muscular Dystrophy and the other because of a drug overdose. I hate to compare the two, but I can't help but see the vast difference in attitude that guided the choices they made and, really, the quality of their lives. One brother was born with an incurable disease that would cause his muscles to progressively deteriorate and eventually contribute to his passing away. The other, blessed with intellect, charm, good looks, and talent, all squandered away largely because of poor choices. Which is kind of my entire point. It's not the circumstances that determine our quality of life, it is our choices. And yes, we can choose how we feel.

When people are going through difficulties, I pray for them, I feel for them, I get it that gratitude might not be the first thing on their list (although, remarkably, in many cases it is). Sometimes, even the mere thought of a particular trial in my life brings the tears rushing forward and makes me wish it didn't have to be so. And yet, it was. My choice lies in my focus. Do I lament what I don't have (and over which I have no control)? Or do I move forward in the knowledge that this life is meant to be experienced and the level of my happiness is determined by me? It's liberating, really.

Have I got this principle down? Absolutely not. I have a suspicion that I am only barely aware of the multitude of blessings being showered down upon me daily. Much like my children give little thought to who keeps the house tidy when I'm not nagging them to do it or how breakfast and dinner magically appear on the table. Most days they simply wonder why mom's so militant about chores and why they have to make their own lunch when all their friends eat school lunch every day. No doubt most of us appreciate less than a fraction of the blessings life has afforded us. But it is what I strive for. And what I choose to teach my children. As their primary nurturer, I can maintain an open dialogue and allow them to "feel" anger or hurt or frustration when things go wrong. But as their teacher, I can also suggest to them that dwelling on the negative for too long contributes little to one's happiness.

The Hiding Place is seriously one of my all-time favorite books. I refer to the principles it teaches again and again. I figure if Betsy can thank God for the fleas (in a concentration camp, no less) I can thank Him too.