I will enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart. I will
enter His courts with praise. I will say this is the day that the Lord
has made. I will rejoice for He has made me glad.
It is the day after Thanksgiving, and my family of four is slowly
rising this morning, one by one, from our Thanksgiving slumber. Our bellies and hearts still full from the
copious amounts of food and love we feasted upon yesterday. Thank you, Jesus for family, friends, pumpkin
pie and whipped cream…but, mostly Lord, thank you for stretchy pants. Amen?
Amen.
“There is always, always, always something to be thankful
for”. I placed a sign with that phrase on my dining room wall a few years
back. It serves as a daily reminder to me
(and I need that reminder) that thanksgiving is so much more than a holiday. It’s a place to enter and abide - a place where
hearts are stretched and filled with life, goodness, grace, abundance, and
joy. It’s totally our choice to binge
and reside in that place of thanksgiving though. And, it’s not always easy to do so,
especially when life is full of circumstances beyond our control. The circumstances themselves, hard as they
may or may not be, are not nearly as important as what we opt to do with them.
When someone suggests you’re sick it is easy to dwell in that
place. And, though it’s of utmost importance
we take care of ourselves, it’s also important we realize sickness does not
have to become our new address. We have
the power within us to overcome that frame of mind. The more focus we place on being ill,
the more we begin to believe that’s all we are.
“I can’t do this or I’m not capable of that because….” It takes
determination, balance, and a thankful heart to stay out of that pit. Sickness doesn’t define you no more than it
defines me. Jesus does. I read this profound statement the other day:
“Though we may think we are at the end of our rope, we are never
at the end of our hope!”
Praise God He is our hope! I
am thankful. The past six months have no
doubt been wearisome and many times I’ve felt at the end of my rope. There have been moments my face has been so
hot from tears, stress, and anxiety that I wanted to stick my head in the
freezer – thinking the cold air would somehow manage to keep me from
spontaneous combustion. I have been hard
pressed, crushed, perplexed, struck down…but, I’ve not been abandoned. I’ve not been destroyed (2 Corinthians 4:7-9). God’s power is alive and well in me and
because of Him I can keep showing up…facing each day with a thankful heart. I
may feel at the end of my rope, but I’ve never been at the end of my hope.
We’ve ruled out many things, but we’re still searching for a cause
of my health concerns and symptoms. Tuesday I will undergo a kidney biopsy. My physicians now considering lupus nephritis
as a potential culprit. Your continued
prayers are much appreciated. I don’t
want to go through the biopsy. Sitting at home
in my stretchy pants and eating pumpkin pie sounds like a much more fun and
exciting way to spend the day. But this,
this is the circumstance I am in. And,
the circumstance itself is not nearly as important as what I opt to do with
it.
I’ve been reading lately the book of 2 Corinthians. It is chock-full of reassuring, comforting, God
breathed words spoken and gifted to us through the Apostle Paul. Paul penned the heartfelt words of 2 Corinthians
around the time period of A.D. 55-57. It
blows my mind that something written that long ago is still completely
applicable and appropriate for today. God
is good. He always knows just what we
need at the exact time we need it…even if it’s more than a thousand years
later. He’s pretty awesome like
that.
The focus of Paul’s message was Christ, not himself. He wanted others to see Christ’s work in him,
and he fully acknowledged that his abilities, his strength, and his accomplishments
were not the result of anything he himself could do, but rather what Christ was
doing in and through him. Preach. In 2 Corinthians chapter 4 Paul writes that
those who love the Lord are like jars of clay – frail and fallible. Yet, despite that frailty, they are jars filled
with the priceless treasure of Christ’s power dwelling in them.
You guys - I am a jar of clay, frail a fallible, but God is alive
and well, and He is at work in and through me.
What an honor and privilege that is! Sometimes I just need that reminder
– a kick in the old stretchy pants, so to speak.
If there is but one thing you take away from reading this blog, I
pray it is this – God’s saving, all consuming, merciful, powerful grace. He is my hope. My strength.
My power. My salvation and my
song.
It is because of the strength I find in Him I can even remotely
begin to have a heart of thanksgiving. A
heart that overflows for His glory (2 Corinthians 4:15). Because of Him, in the midst of unmet
expectations and unanswered prayers – there is appreciation. On those
days when my chin quivers and my eyes fill up with tears – there is
gratitude. Because, there is always, always, always something to be
thankful for.
Hurt, anger, frustration, resentment, bitterness…the list goes on –
these are all totally normal emotions or feelings, and believe you, me – I experience
them. I don’t necessarily know how to
avoid them. But, I am learning not to reside in them. And, that my friends makes all the difference
in the world. Those feelings strangle and
choke when I feast upon and dwell in them.
And, you know what? It’s
difficult to breathe, much less move from that dwelling place when you’re
suffocating. Plus, I’ve already
mentioned I’m partial to stretchy pants, pumpkin pie, and breathing. So…
I will choose to enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart. I will choose to enter His courts with praise. I will choose to say this is the day that the Lord
has made. And, I will choose to rejoice for He has made me glad.
