Learned Lesson Number Sixteen: Gratitude Is Its Own Reward

I have noticed a pattern in the writing of these things I believe to be true. They always get tested. I write about Faith, and Fear rushes in. I write about Hope, and Despair rushes in. I write about Home, and Emptiness rushes in. I find myself in a position of having to prove and re-prove in my own life these lessons that God is trying to teach me. I have to earn the blessings that come with the learning of the lessons over and over again. God is big on repetition. But that is next week’s message. Today I want to talk about gratitude. I NEED to talk about gratitude. Because I need to FEEL gratitude. I know that when I am overwhelmed by gratitude, there is not so much room for the negative and scary stuff.

This morning I have been unable to get off the couch. I awoke to an emotional weight that brought me to tears and would not let me up. The sense of loss I was feeling for people and places that are suddenly gone from my life was overwhelming. I am sleeping on my sister’s couch because I just returned from a year in Utah, staying with my parents and spiritually “recharging”. I will be moving into a bedroom here, (as soon as I can force myself off the couch to do the work required to set up my space) and I lived in a bedroom in Utah, after God decided I could no longer be trusted with a whole house. As painful as this reality is, I also know it is a gift. One for which I am grateful. At the place I am in my life, it is good to be relieved of the responsibility of maintaining a home. I am grateful to my parents and my sister for offering me a bedroom. That said, I am feeling somewhat impatient about reaching that place where I can finally sustain myself and do for my children the things I have been woefully unable to do.

I am blessed with some unbelievable kids, whom I have missed terribly. I have anxiously anticipated getting back to Arizona to be with them, and the past weekend has been filled with celebrations that did not disappoint. My youngest son turned 13 and my youngest grandson celebrated his first birthday. It was Memorial Day, and my boys are fortunate to have a roommate who has safely returned from 2 tours in Iraq. He grilled burgers for us yesterday. My heart has been filled with thanksgiving and love for all of my children and their friends, (whom I consider my honorary children) as I have been able to laugh with them, eat cake, and listen to them play and sing for me. Four of my kids have been writing music together lately, and could not wait to show me what they have been working on. It gave me chills and brought me to tears, honestly. Writing this down and sharing it with you helps me allow the gratitude to wash over me, and moves me toward healing from the loss of what is missing.

Thursday was my last day as a Teacher’s Aide at Timpanogos Academy in Lindon, Utah. I started this job the day after having spent the night in the ER with a nasty gallbladder attack. I was grateful for the job but not anxious to do it at the time. For the first week, I was miserable and in pain, and extremely fearful that I would let down my mother, who got me the job and had faith in me to do it well. As time went by, I started to create some real friendships with the other aides and the teachers, and also to get really attached to the kids I was working with. I began to look forward to every day, and it started to not feel like a job.

On Thursday, the other aides and I performed for the kids at lunchtime, a version of “We Will Rock You” that I had rewritten the words for, and it was a BLAST! We donned our psychedelic Rock and Roll trappings, slapped on some sunglasses, and just cut loose with it. The kids went nuts, and I cannot remember the last time I had that much fun. There were many heartfelt goodbyes, and a couple of my favorite 4^th-grade boys actually followed me out to the car, hugging me and begging me not to go. It was an overwhelming outpouring of love, for which I will always be grateful. This made my all-night drive across the desert a bittersweet one, but I was blessed to have the strengthening influence of two inspiring audio talks given to me by one of my friends before I left. A friend who has experienced loss on a level I cannot imagine, and yet faces life with gratitude and humor. Thanks, Lori.

I have described this experience as feeling like being “driven out of Eden”, and I think this is a fitting analogy. Adam and Eve would have certainly been comfortable and safe, had they stayed in Eden. But they could never have been with their children. They never would have been polished by the refining fires of adversity, and they never would have truly appreciated joy without experiencing sorrow.

So I am grateful for the sorrow I felt this morning on the couch. It makes the joy, when it comes, so much sweeter. I am grateful for the kind of friends who sense when I need them and call. I am grateful to be able to go babysit my grandsons tomorrow. I am grateful I was able to wash dishes for my boys yesterday. I am grateful for a sister who has opened her home and her heart to me and my son. I am grateful for my white kitty, who has missed me and won’t leave me alone for a minute. I am not so grateful for her white kitty hairs, which are now clinging to everything I own. But I will take it, as adversity goes.

I feel better now. Gratitude is its own reward. Feeling it makes everything better. But to truly feel it, you have to specifically acknowledge it. There’s a reason that we are taught to express it FIRST in our prayers. BEFORE we ask for what we stand in need of. So count your blessings. Name them. Get grateful, and get off the couch.