Thankfulness as a way of Living

 I know...it's been a LONG time since I posted here.  But, as we come to the Thanksgiving season, I hope you will indulge me writing a little longer article. I began thinking about thankfulness as a way of life instead of just once a year, and it led me on a search of someone who seeks to do just that.  His name is Chad.

 

I watched a YouTube video where one man (Ryan) donated part of his liver to his brother (Chad) to keep his brother alive…and then Ryan ended up dying from complications, though he had been totally healthy before the surgery.   It was moving story in which Chad, the recipient of this gift of life, chokes up at the thought of his brother giving up his life for him.  It goes on to show the gratitude of Chad’s children as they were talking with their cousins, (Ryan’s kids) and how difficult a situation it now was for them, since they ended up losing their dad.

 

It is difficult to watch a story that without being moved.  There is something compelling about a brother who loves so much that he is willing to risk his life for a brother that is dying.  There is something noble, something right, about a man who, when he finds out that he is a match, doesn’t hesitate to step up.  You can’t watch a story like that without being moved.  Yet, in looking at the comments on Youtube underneath this video, I am amazed at how many think he did the wrong thing.

 

“Now imagine the kind of guilt he has to live with. What a shame.”

 

“Die you son of... Pray to God that Ryan's children can forgive you. I can't imagine the embarrassment you must feel. I mean imagine knowing that your dad died because of your uncle and thanks to that baby that is 38 years old and still receives kisses from his dad, you will grow up without a father! IMAGINE!”

 

“If I were Ryan’s son I’d kill Chad. It would be a slow death --trust me.”

 

“And people believe in GOD hahaha eh......if_ this ain’t proof that there’s no GOD I don’t know what is........”

 

“The guy was being selfless and God just gave him the middle-finger. Meanwhile, we have child rapists and murders in prison getting three hot meals and a bed, living long lives.”

 

First of all, I find it amazing that there are so many people who can watch a 5 minute news story and then think to pass judgment on every person in it, believing that their opinion is the only one that matters…but beyond that, I think it says something about the human condition that has turned so selfish that the perspective is one of rage and revenge or another excuse to shake your fist at God and proclaim Him to be non-existent or Someone who doesn’t care at all.  Which is the first reason we have a hard time living a life of thankfulness.

 

We have grown used to putting our perspective above all others…including the truth.  When bad things happen, we rarely challenge our own thoughts as to their rightness or wrongness.  We simply assume that if we thought them, they must be right.  We have the arrogance to believe that we are the final authority what we see and we have little room for a change in perspective. We hold to our own opinions so tightly that we refuse to see any possibility that we just might be wrong.

 

A life of ingratitude is the result.  Nothing that happens around us can then be good enough to suit us.  Nothing is worthy of our lofty heights, and it is easy to dismiss it all with a sweep of the hand as being beneath us.  Then, when trouble comes, it is also very easy to fall into a victim’s role rather than a student’s role.

 

We complain and cry that life isn’t fair and that we don’t deserve all of this pain and often conclude that if there is a God, He must hate us to put us through all of this misery.  In short, our perspective has become our god.  And our perspective is what causes us to either make thankfulness a way of life or miss out on it. 

 

Either we see things from a perspective of being grateful, or from a perspective that leaves us wanting more and feeling like we not only deserve it, but that we are getting ripped off it we don’t get it.

 

Many of us are growing past the material side of things.  That is, we’ve seen that more material possessions won’t make us any happier, but we still want more.  We never seem to be satisfied.  A new computer. A new car.  A new sofa. A new job.  A new house.  You may say, “Nope…I’m satisfied.  Don’t want any of that.”

 

What about more power?  More influence?  More skill?  More money for the job you are being asked to do?  Nope…not me.  I’m happy.  Well…maybe a little more money.  But really, I’m good.

 

More intimacy in my marriage.  More time for doing what I want.  More respect.  More love.  More appreciation from others.  Are we getting closer to home?

 

We spend our lives thinking if only we had more of something then we’d be happy.  And while we know that’s not necessarily true, the fact is, we are right.  We do need more of something.  The catch is having more… of the right stuff. 

 

If we only had more of Jesus in our lives, we would be.  If we had more trust in Divine power and less trust in ourselves, we would be more settled.  If we had more belief that God really did love us and has our best interest in mind and less doubt, we could learn to relax in His care.  Again, it’s a matter of perspective.  And where do we get that perspective?  Let’s go back to the Word.

 

A few weeks ago, we looked at the first part of this verse—and I’d like to review it—but today, I want us to focus more on the last part.

 

 

Phil 4:6-7 NIV  6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

 

 

Phil. 4:6-7 NLT    Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.  7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

 

I like the way that reads, don’t you?  It makes it readily understandable. Look at verse 6 again.   Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Don’t worry, instead pray.  Now let’s look a little more closely at the last part of verse 6.  Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 

 

It is not wrong to have needs.  God knows what you need—but He wants to hear from you.  He wants you to articulate what you need.  Not just what you want, but what your needs are.  See—we so often tell God what we want that we’ve often confused the two.  And there is nothing wrong with telling God what you want—but remember that He has only promised to supply what you need, though often He will go far beyond that to supply some of the wants as well.

 

Tell God what you need.  Do you really know what you need?  Is it truly more money?  Or is it a more trusting heart in God and a willingness to watch His provision?

 

Is it for your loved one to be healed?  Or is it for you to learn to yield yourself to the will of God?  Which do you want and which do you really need?

 

Is it for your kids to be kept safe physically or spiritually?  Sure, we want our kids to be kept safe physically—but we need our kids to be kept safe spiritually.

 

The very act of determining our wants from our real needs can help change our perspective. Tell God what you NEED.  Not worrying—praying.  Tell Him what you need, and then look at the last statement of the verse: and thank Him for all He has done.  Go back and recount what God has already done for you.  Not just a blanket, generic, “Thank you for all your many blessings”, but where you begin to realize that He has provided for so many of your needs and wants, starting with your greatest need—salvation, and working from there.  The perspective of gratitude gives you purpose.

 

Chad will live everyday with the realization that Ryan sacrificed his life for him, and that will put new perspective into each and every day that Chad lives.  When Chad gets up and looks at himself in the mirror, he knows that he must live this new day well because of his sense of gratitude to a brother that saved his life.  I would think that this perspective would add a new meaning and purpose to life.

 

You and I can live our days with that same purpose because there was One who took our diseases upon Himself, and our worst disease, sin, was enough to do Him in—not because He had to die.  He was perfectly healthy in every way.  It was we who were sick and doomed to die.  But when He began to do a character transplant, our sickness required so much of Him that it cost His very life.   With that realization should come gratitude that changes the way we live our lives.

 

Phil. 4:6-7 NLT    Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.  Then notice the by-product. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

 

Those four statements can change your world. Don’t worry about anything; instead pray about everything.  Tell God what you need.  And thank Him for all He has done.

 

That’s how you develop thankfulness as a way of life.  And the thing you are looking for becomes reality.  Peace.  You can have God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand.  And it is His peace that will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

 

Don’t worry.   Pray. Tell God what you need.  Thank him for what He has done.  That will change your perspective.  And that will bring you peace in your life.

 

May you have that thankfulness and peace in your life this Thanksgiving season!  Not only this season, but every day!

N 

The Thank-You Cure

When I was a kid, when the fall colors started to appear and the weather grew crisp in the Northern Hemisphere,  we began to look forward to a holiday that we in America simply call, Thanksgiving.  It was a time to celebrate God's mercies to us throughout the year and to join with extended family members and spend a weekend enjoying food and each other's company and to discover your place in a shared family lineage as the stories were piled one on top of the other and laughter and love seemed to rule the day.  

It seems as though, in our current era, we have no time to celebrate Thanksgiving, as the retailers would have us jump from Back to School Sales to Halloween Sales and then straight to Christmas.  And we have all but forgotten Thanksgiving.  Were it not for grocer's who still want to cash in on the reminiscent holiday, it would probably totally be skipped.  But the Thanksgiving holiday is not what I am trying to champion here.  While I think it is still an important holiday, I would suggest that it is what is behind the holiday that is really important.  Thankfulness.  The act of being truly grateful for what we have.  I even believe that being thankful could help us with the worry fear, anxiety and other things that we struggle with on an almost daily basis now.  Which reminds me of A. J. Cronin and a story he once wrote.

A. J. Cronin was born in 1896 in Cardross, Scotland. He was educated at Dumbarton Academy where he received baccalaureates in medicine and surgery. In 1914, he entered the Glasgow University Medical School, graduating in 1919. During World War I Cronin served as a surgeon in the Royal Navy. After the war, he worked as a ship's surgeon on a liner bound for India, and then served in various hospitals. In 1930, his health broke down and he turned to writing as a profession. In 1931 he produced his first novel, "Hatter's Castle," which became an immediate success. He followed it with several best-selling books including "The Citadel," "The Stars Look Down," and "The Keys of the Kingdom." 

Once Cronin told about a colleague who gave an unusual prescription to patients afflicted with worry, fear, discouragement or self-doubt. The doctor called it his thank-you cure. "For six weeks I want you to say thank you whenever anyone does you a favor. And to show you mean it, emphasize the words with a smile." Within six weeks most of the doctor's patients showed great improvement.

Are you down to try it?  As you consider your answer, here are a few other things to think about.

"Gratitude is born in hearts that take time to count up past mercies." - Charles E. Jefferson

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." - Colossians 2:7

"Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." - 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Giving thanks should not be a once a year event. Nor does it necessarily need to be smothered in food and feasting.  Rather, it should be practiced daily for all the blessings that we receive. Are you feeling worry, fear, discouragement or self-doubt? Today in prayer, thank Christ and thank others whenever anyone does you a favor.  And to show you mean it, emphasize your words with a smile!

Lessons From a Truck Stop Diner

Occasionally, I get an e-mail that makes me stop and think.  The one that follows is a great example of what it means to be part of a functional family, which is what God has called His church to be.  Read it and see if you don’t agree.  (The author is unknown, at least to me, but if it belongs to someone you know, I will gladly give credit where it is due!)

“I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Steve. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy.  But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I  wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Steve. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The  four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me, the mouthy college kids traveling to school, the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck germ;" the pairs of white shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Steve so I closely watched him for the first few weeks. I shouldn't have worried.

After the first week, Steve had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Steve got done with the table. Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully put the dishes and glasses onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

  Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, which stopped to check on him every so often, admitted

they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Steve being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Steve missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new  valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. 

Fannie, my head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the   

good news. Bell Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Fannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look. He grinned. "OK, Fannie, what was that all about?" he asked.

"We just got word that Steve is out of surgery and going to be okay."

"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"

Fannie quickly told Bell Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Steve's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said, "but I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills.  From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Bell Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Fannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.

Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Steve and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do. After the morning rush, Fannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and funny look on her face.

"What's up?" I asked. "I didn't get that table where Bell Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said, "this was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Steve". "Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him about Steve and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Steve" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds.

Fannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply, "truckers." That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Steve is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back. Steve was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop  grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.

"Hold up there, Steve, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me." I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. "First thing you have to do, Steve, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Steve looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Steve" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Steve stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.  I turned to his mother.

"There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. Happy Thanksgiving."

Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Steve, with a big, smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. Best worker I ever hired. Plant a seed and watch it grow.”

Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!  Family!  When one is in need, the rest gather around to help.  That’s family.  When one hurts, the others surround him/her to bring encouragement and love.  That’s family.  When one can’t see where the next step is to be placed, family members guide the steps.  God has called us to be a family.  A functional family.  Not to fight, bicker and complain, but to love, uphold and lift up.  Functional families build up rather than tear down.  Functional families work to strengthen another’s weaknesses rather than shutting them out because of their shortcomings.  Functional families talk to rather than about each other.  And functional families support in the face of crisis rather than back away.  

Tell me--are you a functional family member?