Changing Rituals of Gratitude
In the days before Elvis, the “King of Rock and Roll,” died, I pierced my ears. Numerous decades later, an attempt to wear earrings resulted in blood droplets, due to one closed hole sporting regrown skin.
Abandoning the effort, I climbed in my car to attend a wedding shower. Dead battery. Hours earlier, I discovered an unfixable (for me) glitch, in my author website. This trifecta of trouble did not bring gratitude to mind as my first and best reaction.
Sometimes suffering isn’t in a singular hardship but in the compilation of events. A series of small things converging into conveyors of salt and water spilling down dejected cheeks.
My AAA hero arrived within hours. In freezing temperatures, as my rescuer replaced the dead battery with new, I asked if he was cold. “No,” he said. “Cold’s a matter of the mind.”
He shared his journey to Tennessee came from sunny California through Fort Knox, KY. At times, he slept under trees in frigid temperatures. “It’s in your perspective,” he said.
Indeed. I needed a replacement attitude.
Do we feel more gratitude in the presence of plenty and absence of pain? Do we experience gratitude after the fix or before the crisis? How do we stop human reactions to stressors and look for spiritual growth in life?
I need to work on ever-present gratitude, regardless of circumstances and perceived suffering. Gratitude, which never fluctuates, but praises throughout temporal and permanent situations.
The practice of gratitude is often expressed on hard, wood floors. Rituals coming after situations which bend knees but don’t break the soul. My mantras of past ritual typically reflect words such as “I’m OK, it’s OK, everything’s OK.”
I’m deep in search of new rituals. Days of hard and I stumble under the weight. That night, burgers burned, and fire alarms resounded through the house. A few days later, the ice machine broke.
These events teach tender lessons, and I’ve inclined a listening ear. Gratitude takes practice and is honed during weeks of raging hurricanes under storm tossed clouds as well as days like placid lakes, shimmering under the sun.
Gratitude’s practice becomes choice which occurs after the trials, through the events, and before the morning dew. Gratitude readies before circumstances go awry and steadies as life’s compass spins out of control.
Gratitude might not be the first emotion washing over hearts and tongues during trials, but with practice, it can be the last breath. Through intentional ritual, unspeakable faith carries us through.
Knees and hearts develop muscle memory, and our soul sings with gratitude. Gratitude’s journey takes us from relief after the fix, into second nature, before becoming first nature. This transformational journey takes us into who we were meant to be and who we are in Christ.
As we grow in spiritual maturity and examine our hearts, we find improvements. If we don’t seek and change, it’s easy to become as ear piercings and grow back into the old person before the blood of the cross covered us.
We’re working on getting through this life and into the next. It’s not easy, and often simple matters cloud my mind and vision. On bended knee, I reframe definitions of both gratitude and suffering in my land of plenty.
Jesus carries suffering’s definition in his wounded body and personifies gratitude in his risen body. The one which still showed piercings and open holes, driven in his hands and feet.
When he appeared to the disciples, they didn’t first express joy and gratitude. They doubted and feared. I think Jesus knew they needed to remember. Once they saw his scars, joy came and understanding followed (Luke 24).
I’m in good company and seek to revise my view of gratitude and self. New definitions sharpen existing rituals which carry me to church, connect me to community, and participates in shared communion. New definitions change my focus from self to God.
Remember. We’re promised trials and God’s provision, sorrow and God’s presence. Throughout life, we’re assured God’s faithfulness.
A new mantra of gratitude. Remembered through Jesus who died after immense suffering. Remembered in his complete sacrifice. Remembered in his holes which didn’t grow back.
