Thanksgiving.
The purpose is in its proper name, but it's a day that can go against the grain of our nature.
Thanksgiving is a spiritual discipline in that it trains or teaches us. The Bible commands us repeatedly to "give thanks." But what about when a thankful heart is not naturally emerging? What do we do with those pockets in our hearts that hold fear, bitterness, shame? During a time of thanksgiving, we don't dare bring that out because there is no gratitude to be found hiding there. I battle the pockets. Especially one that formed a few years ago.
Thanksgiving of 2011 commenced with some anxiety: A
specialist was predicting that I had thyroid cancer and treated my neck like a pin
cushion for a biopsy, the results of which were due the week after
Thanksgiving. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-19 is a doozy of a Scripture: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit." Well, with some tears, my family, particularly my dad, welled up with thanksgiving for my life! (Aw shucks!)
While my results were negative, anxiety heightened: My symptoms were eerily similar to some my dad had been experiencing. Dad got biopsied; the second week of December, learned that it was cancer. Then, it was terminal cancer. On January 10, 2012, my dad died. My heart was like cargo pants- pockets were many and deep.
Approaching Thanksgiving 2012 was a bit terrifying at worst and dreaded at best. How do you honor God in giving thanks when you are not thankful? Hurt, fearful, angry- yes, but not thankful. Enter spiritual disciplines. When you have trained your heart to God's commands - especially in easier seasons with lighter burdens - then the discipline is in place in your life when the season is hard and the burden is heavy. So that holiday, a trepidacious, now smaller family gathered for Thanksgiving. The unspoken was that we would "give thanks." (I had 36 years of training on this one.) With fear and a measure of faith, we shared around the table our thankfulness. Tears were flowing, but so was grace. Not every deep pocket was emptied, but it was a start. The spiritual discipline that honors God blesses us. Our hearts need to give thanks.
The lighter side to our Thanksgiving that year (because this post needs some levity): A decision made that evening as a family (my widowed mom included). Dad was fun! We needed fun, as in, "God bring back some fun or we die of sadness." And so the idea came that we should buy a ping pong table. Black Friday, my mom bought one (who knew she was so good!?). We played, and played, in laughter and smiles and spirits refreshed. Even Great-Grandpa played (not too shabby!).
Obedient hearts and ping pong were grace that God gave on that day, but the ongoing provision is the beckoning to empty my pockets. You and I were never created to live with hearts full of hurt. The year my dad died, the tears I cried were fierce and many. I saw pockets shoved full and then (sometimes) emptied before the Lord day after day. But this spiritual discipline of coming before Him gave my heart and mind necessary training. A sensitivity emerged to the weight of heart-pockets harboring hurt, anger, fear. I saw how trustworthy Jesus is with vulnerability. I felt how free I was to question and doubt and not be condemned by my God.
What does this have to do with Thanksgiving and our everyday lives? The command to "give thanks" is a beckoning by a gentle Savior, not a drill sergeant. We don't give thanks with tight fists and clenched jaws to a demanding master. We come to Jesus, emptying our pockets, to bring the hard and hidden things into His light. To lay bare that which we would rather hide. Because He cares and is safe. When we trust Jesus enough to bare our souls and empty our pockets, there is grace. Because to empty ourselves in the presence of Christ means to receive his fullness.
From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after the other.
John 1:16
Grace and peace to you this Thanksgiving.
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