Of Being Thankful

As previously mentioned, I'm memorizing my way through Colossians 3, and it has been a life-changer. I'm suddenly recalling the many, many, many (did I say many?) lessons I've heard through my life about the importance of hiding God's Word in my heart. And I definitely agreed with them. But then, isn't there a verse about walking away from what we hear and forgetting to actually put those lessons to action? (Answer: Yes, there is; it's in James 1, in case you weren't sure.) 

31 years into this journey and I'm finally realizing that maybe some of those older, wiser voices in my life actually knew what they were talking about.

So, yes, Colossians 3:1-14 led me to the point of putting away earthly things and putting on a compassionate heart, bound in love, which pulls it all together in perfect harmony. And then, yesterday, I moved on to the next verse on the schedule to commit to memory. And it just keeps getting better (as God's Word is known to do).

"And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful." (v. 15, ESV).

Peace.

Even more so than embracing this all-encompassing love that transforms a heart bent toward anger to a heart designed for kindness, humility, and patience, this next step up the chain - the one to rule them all - peace. It brings an even deeper sigh of sweet relief from this storm that has been raging inside for longer than I care to admit.

Because who can be patient? Who can be meek? Humble, kind and compassionate? From a heart filled with turmoil? How can I bring calm to my life and that of my children, putting to rest this wrathful, earthly self, without peace reigning over all my actions.

When peace is in control, the quiet voice of love can be heard. And all the rest is a natural overflow of a heart ruled by the peace that comes only from Christ.

Thank you, Jesus.

And then, what brings a pure smile to my face. After moving past peace, and breathing that sigh of sweet relief, three simple words. "And be thankful." That's it. Almost as if it's just an afterthought. We are to dress ourselves with compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness and patience, wrapping it all in love, ruled over by peace. And, oh yeah, just be grateful.

As I nod on over to Ann Voskamp, yet another voice of wisdom whose truth is finally ringing in my heart even more deeply than ever before, I recognize that maybe it's this counting of One Thousand Gifts that turns our eyes, our hearts, from the one thousand papercuts, so that we dwell on what our hearts were meant to see in this painful world. Because even more than the tiny things that cut us shallow are the gifts given to love us deep.

And be thankful.

This is where are hearts were meant to rest. In a peace that makes us recognize all around us, even in the maddening storm, is sheer gift.

This gift of being alive and being loved and being chosen. As His holy and beloved. 

And what lost trinket or crying child or squabbling siblings or clutter-ridden home can ever drown out this Truth. That when all is falling apart, He stands still. And His peace reigns in our hearts.

And we are thankful.

He is not finished with me, yet.

Of Passing It On

It would appear I am not the only one in this house with a renewed sense of gratitude. 

Micaiah's newest thing is graciousness.  It feels as though every time I am turning around I'm hearing the words, "Thank you, Mommy" coming out of her mouth.

And it's kind of a nice change.


"Thank you, Mommy, my animal crackers."


"Thank you, Mommy, say my chicken."  (This was after I was corrected because I said she liked her green beans and her mashed potatoes, when really it was the chicken and potatoes she loved.  But she, clearly, appreciated my retraction.)


"Thank you, Mommy, my blanket."


And the other day, I heard both of the following, "Thank you, Mommy, yelling me." and "Thank you, Mommy, my time-out."  Now, I'm really not sure how to take those, so I'll pretend that she understands the greater good of the discipline which is bestowed upon her and the great difficulty I bear in doling it out.  And she clearly appreciates the pain I endure to raise her up in the way she should go.

Let me just have my moment, won't you?

Of Overwhelming Gratitude

Today was a day of overwhelming thankfulness. 

I could not even pinpoint any particular aspect of life lately that had prompted the feeling of gratitude which overtook me even from the moment I awoke.  It just seemed with every turn, I was giving thanks to my God for the children that someday drive me crazy but whose hair is incredibly soft and whose flesh is enjoyably squeezable and who, more than anything, know how to make me smile, even while bringing me to the verge of frustrated tears. 

I poured out grateful praise for a husband who works all day so that I can be home with my precious little ones and, sometimes, when I justify it to myself, spend the afternoon watching Netflix or reading Christian suspense novels while the children slumber.

Again, I cannot say this was any conscious effort to which I dedicated myself today, but a true outpouring of the overflow of my heart.  Gratitude.

On top of it all, I am grateful that this peace which overwhelmed me a mere week and a half ago has already taken root and has begun to strangle the weeds of bitterness and doubt which once so easily entangled.  I am thankful for this new normal.