I am becoming more grateful.
I am learning to read this life in the language of what I've been given, not of what I do not have.
Sunday night we gathered all our K-Life leaders in close. We set out turkey and rolls, and they brought the other mainstays: stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, green beans. We borrowed a mishmash of tables and lined them up end to end and sent brown kraft paper rolling down the whole thing. We lit some candles, and Aaron put on a CD of cello music.
We're not afraid of cheesy, so yes, we sang the Doxology whilst holding hands, and yes, we partook in that time honored tradition of sharing what we are thankful for.
When it came my turn, I said,
"Sometimes I look around my life and think 'What can I not be thankful for?' That part in Philippians where Paul wrote about being content in plenty and in want--sometimes I feel like I have never had a season of want yet."
The thing about thankfulness is that is expands your soul. What you once thought a small, cramped, hole-in-the-wall flat is now a huge farmhouse with lofty, beamed ceilings. What you once thought such meagre furnishings, in need of total overhaul, are now catalog worthy displays, artful and lovely.
While, really, nothing in the circumstance has actually changed.
Only your heart.
I used to read blogs about home decor and fashion and lust after all the pretties. "If only," I would sigh.
If only Aaron made more money. If only I made some money. If only we could afford to buy new furniture instead of someone else's hand-me-downs. If only I could shop at Anthropologie and Ann Taylor Loft instead of garage sales and thrift shops.
This month, the "if onlies" have begun to slink away. I feel like I am seeing the abundance of my life for the first time. It's not about me, either--about what I've collected and curated finally being enough. No, it wheels me around 180 degrees and plants my face in front of God, and I am broken by His goodness and anguished that I have missed so much of it for 27 years.
May we take a long look at our lives, today and every day. May we breathe in and out thanks. May we, we who have never deserved, make much of the One who has always given.