Musings on Marriage

Month: November 2017

Ten Thousand Gifts

Dear Daughters,

Six years ago I read the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. The book was birthed because of a challenge from Ann’s friend to list 1,000 gifts that God had given her, gifts she already had.  Gifts that were around her every day, but she had forgotten to see.  What started as a difficult hunt for gifts turned out to be the most joy-filled assignment Ann had ever received.  In counting gifts –  blessings – she was able to turn from guilt, regrets and shame, while she watched her life transform into gratitude, delight and joy.

As you remember, I also took the challenge to count gifts, naming them one by one.  At the beginning it was easy, fun, and continually kept me on a treasure hunt.  But as my health disintegrated and I had to quit my teaching job, it became more and more difficult to list those gifts because I saw so little for which to be thankful.

Thankfully, Ann also wrote about the Hard Eucharisteo  – (the Greek word for giving thanks) when gratitude is difficult, when life doesn’t go your way, when you can’t understand the evil all around and within you.  During these past six years I have taken breaks from my gratitude journal, but out of necessity started writing again, thanking God for the beautiful but also – with tears – for the darkness, the uncertainty, and the disappointment I was facing.

I have filled six journals over the past six years, over 10,000 spaces filled with gifts from God.  There were days, for months at a time, I didn’t write, couldn’t write – or was it that I refused to be thankful for my heartache on some of those darkest days?  That I refused to believe God loved me and was walking with me through those times?

There were times in the past when I have begged God to let me die, nights when I was tempted to swallow down the whole bottle of Ambien because of the frustration of insomnia during the night and the relentless fatigue during the day.

Thankfully, God said no to my prayer for my life to end.  Through it all Dad was there to stay with me, listen to my wails, sometimes simply sit in silence and love me even though I seemed so unlovable and saw no reason for my continued existence.  His faithfulness and kindness helped to carry me through the months, and later the years of physical weakness.

Eventually, I started giving thanks once again, thankful I could still make meals, wash clothes, see and enjoy beautiful pumpkins in the field, geese flying through the sky, the laughter of children, the encouragement from friends and you – my daughters.

Later though I would dive again into the days filled with shadows, forget to give thanks, the gratitude journal diving to the bottom of my book pile, neither seen nor remembered.

Some days I would read the Psalms, and on the dark days one of my favorites was Psalm 13.  King David, the writer of this and many Psalms was brutally honest with his emotions.  He starts out by saying

How long, O Lord?

Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?…

Yep, that’s exactly how I felt – forgotten and hidden from God.  I had prayed for healing, but it didn’t come.  Day after day I lay on the couch, transferring to bed when darkness fell.  David continues:

…How long must I wrestle with my thoughts,

and every day have sorrow in my heart?

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death….

 It was comforting for me to know that David, a man after God’s own heart, was also depressed and discouraged at times.  And the amazing part is that God ordained David’s thoughts and emotions to be written, saved and recorded for generations later with which to identify.

During those dark days I loved those verses, feeling quite righteous in my feelings of being forgotten, neglected and abandoned by God.  I could wallow in my pity, figuring that God wouldn’t expect much from me simply because I seemed to be off His radar.

But now and again, I would reluctantly read the last few verses of that Psalm:

…but I trust in your unfailing love;

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me.

There were times I certainly didn’t trust, rejoice or sing because I didn’t believe He had been good to me, I believed the lie that He no longer cared.  I wondered how David could end up singing and trusting even though he had felt abandoned as well.  But if I was going to be honest and believe that the Bible is indeed true, I needed to finish reading that psalm, not just camp out on the verses about gloom and feelings of despair.

I found that if I spoke or sang those words out loud, hope would emerge again.  I would pull out my journal and scribble a few more lines of gratitude.  Joy would multiply – oh so slowly – but it started and I could see the possibility of a future that was good even though it didn’t happen according to my plans.

Here I am today, much better than what I was, yet still not where I would like to be.  Oh well, I will continue to trust in His unfailing love no matter what lies ahead of me.  I have seen His faithfulness in the past and will continue to trust Him for the future.

When your days are dark – sing, perhaps even weep through tears of grief – give thanks and know that He will never leave you nor forsake you.

And that is enough.

Love, Mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Blessing of Thorns

Dear Daughters,

My friend gave me a copy of this story a few months ago, so thought I would share it with you:

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door.  Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze.  Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole that from her.

During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son.  She grieved over her loss.  As if that weren’t  enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, those holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come for the holiday.

Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer.  

She has no idea what I’m feeling, thought Sandra with a shudder.

Thanksgiving?  Thankful for what?  She wondered.  For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her?  For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

Good afternoon, can I help you?  The shop clerk’s approach startled her.

I need an arrangement, stammered Sandra.

For Thanksgiving?  Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special? asked the shop clerk.  I’m convinced that flowers tell stories, she continued.  Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this thanksgiving?

Not exactly! Sandra blurted out. In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong.

Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the shop clerk said, I have the perfect arrangement for you.

Just then the shop door’s small bell rang, and the clerk said Hi Barbara!  let me get your order.

She politely excused herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses.  Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no flowers.

Want this in a box? Asked the clerk.

Sandra watched for the customer’s response.  Was this a joke?  Who would want rose stems with no flowers?  She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.

Yes please, Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. You’d think that after three years of getting the special, I wouldn’t be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again, she said as she gently tapped her chest. And she left with her order.

Uh, stammered Sandra, that lady just left with uh…., she just left with no flowers!

Right, said the clerk, I cut off the flowers.  That’s the Special.  I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.

Oh, come on, you can’t tell me someone is willing to pay for that! exclaimed Sandra.

Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling much like you feel today, explained the clerk.  She thought she had very little to be thankful for.  She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery. 

That same year I had lost my husband, continued the clerk, and for the first time in my life, had just spent the holidays alone.  I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.

So what did you do? asked Sandra.

I learned to be thankful for thorns, answered the clerk quietly.

I’ve always thanked God for the good things in my life and never questioned the good things that happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask questions.  It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I have always enjoyed the flowers of life, but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God’s comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we’re afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others.

Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the very thing her friend had tried to tell her.

I guess the truth is I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby and I’m angry with God.

Just then someone else walked in the shop.

Hey Phil! Shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.

My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving Special..12 thorny, long-stemmed stems, laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.

Those are for your wife? asked Sandra incredulously.  Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like that?

No, I’m glad you asked, Phil replied.  Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced.  After forty years we were in a real mess, but with the Lord’s grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from thorny times, and that was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific problem and give thanks for what that problem taught us.

As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra I highly recommend the Special.  

I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life.   Sandra said.  It’s all too fresh.

Well, the clerk replied carefully, my experience has shown me that thorns make roses more precious.  We treasure God’s providential care more during trouble than at any other time.  Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love.  Don’t resent the thorns.

Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks.  For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment.

I’ll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please, she managed to choke out.

I hoped you would, said the clerk gently.  I’ll have them ready in a minute.

Thank you.  What do I owe you?

Nothing.  Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on me.  The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra.

I’ll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first.

It read: My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns.  I have thanked you a thousand times for my roses, but never once for all my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns.  Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain.  Show me that through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant.

Praise Him for your roses; thank Him for your thorns.

–Author Unknown

Lori, the friend who gave me this story, has been confined to a wheelchair for 23 years, following a car accident.  Since her accident she has broken both her legs and suffered infections which have kept her bedridden for months, yet she is probably the most content woman I know.  When visiting her I marvel at the grace, gratitude and peace she exudes.  She knows that someday she will stand in the presence of Jesus Christ and her body will be whole, so is content to do what she can until that time comes.

Lori has taught me much about acceptance and gratitude.  I often forget to thank God for the good things in life, then complain about the thorns.  What makes us think life should be easy and comfortable?

This year, join me in giving thanks for the thorns as well as the roses.  In God’s wisdom they all belong to the same plant.

Love, Mom

The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters,

He restores my soul….

Psalm 23

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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