Thankful

Sometimes you just have to stop and be thankful.

And I’m not talking about the “sit-around-the-Thanksgiving-Day-table-and-take-a-turn-saying-thanks-for-Aunt-Hazel-and-her-cranberry-salad” kind of thankful. And not the “just-found-my-car-keys” or the “got-the-’A’-I-needed-to-cover-my-butt” thankful, either.

No, I’m talking about gut-level gratitude. Those times when your world slows down, maybe even stops, for a minute or two and the only thing you want to do is say, “Thank you, God. Really, thank you”.

See, if you’re anything like me, we get stuck in that rut where we pray (and sometimes half heatedly) and just kind of hope for the best. So we throw up a hollow prayer and it’s kind of like sticking a token in a slot machine. You hope you win big, that God answers your prayer...maybe even half-way answers it...but down below you’re pretty sure you won’t see a three of a kind. Usually you just get a pear, a plum and a lemon.

And then we conclude, “oh, it’s God’s will” and go about our life.

But then, then, there are the times when God comes through in big, huge, audacious ways that can only be attributed to Him. They can’t find any trace of the cancer. An opportunity that seemed like a wish too delicate to actually hope for presents itself. Haunting ghosts from the past diminish as you look around and see the sun shining on you.

All that...and it’s only Monday.

And for those experiences, for those times, for those kind of days, yeah, I have to stop and be thankful. And it means even more because I’m really lousy at praying.

Since I’m a writer, I know how to insert bullet points of necessary information into conversational prose. Add in some humor here, make a poignant point there and everything comes out sounding pretty good. But when I do that in prayer, it usually ends up as a clunky collection of words. Not from the heart at all. Just shallow. Superficial.

And I get frustrated and end up saying something like, “(*sigh*) God...I’m really crappy at this..so here’s what I’m thinking...who I want to pray for and I guess you’ll do whatever You want to do anyway. But whatever happens, just don’t let me get in Your way. Amen.”

But that’s the thing with God. He’s not looking for professional orators. He doesn’t care if you can recite Bible passages as you pray. He doesn’t care if you don’t "get it right”. It makes no matter whether you’re on a pulpit or a park bench. In a church or a Chinese restaurant. He just wants you.

A conversation, a relationship, with you. For you to be open. Honest. Trusting. Lay it on Him, He can take it. He knows your heart. He knows your past. He knows you fears, your dreams, your desires.

In short, He knows you. And He just wants you to know Him.

The only way to do that is with real, honest dialogue. With a real, honest God. And when we do that – be real with Him – that’s when the real prayer comes out. Answers come. And blessings begin.

And for that, yes, I am truly thankful.

So go ahead, have your own conversation with Him sometime this week. And just see what happens in your own life. I'm betting it's something you'll end up being grateful for.

Daily Bread

"Give us this day our daily bread..."

I've recited that line of The Lord's Prayer countless times, mostly in unison with a congregation or even in a small gathering of other Christians. And most the time I just mutter through it, parroting the line and focus more on whether we'll say "debts" or "trespasses" in the forthcoming line. Shallow praying, I know. And I hate it.

But "Give us this day our daily bread" really meant something to me this week. You too, I'm sure.

In my case it was "Give us this day a tank of gas", "Give us this day a cell phone charge" and "Give us this day a warm shower".

I'm not trying to make light of The Lord's Prayer or put any humor in this thought, it's simply finding an open gas station when my tank was hugging "E" while traveling back to Cincinnati early Monday morning was a time of outright trust in God. Finding not one, but two power converters for my truck to create my own rolling command center was like finding a Christmas present with my name on it. And having my friends insist I stay with them while my power is out is nothing less than an oasis.

But being thankful for help with the small things, the daily things, is hard for us. As people. As Americans. Even as Christians. Because we idolize the people who are self-made successes, shy away from labels like "support group" and even have a hard time when a store clerk asks, "Can I help you?" ("No...no I'm just looking."). Admit it, you probably hate having to ask for help. From a friend. From a stranger. From God.

But a storm that led to a week with no power, meant blocked roads and countless closed stores shakes up our routine, displaces our little world and shows you that, try as you might, you're not walking solo on this journey. We all need God. We all need others. And that can be scary. An inconvenience. At times, it can even be a let down. But it can also be a blessing. A growth experience. And a healing experience like no other.

"Give us this day our daily bread..."

That's faith and trust in something other than myself. Something I need to work on.

I just had my morning coffee and truly, honestly thanked God for it today. Probably for the first time ever. "Thanks for taking care of me, God. Thanks for putting the people in my life who I can ask for help and they can ask the same from me. Thank you for all you do for all of us, big and small, to show us how much You care for us and protect us. Thank you for my daily bread."

So now what? Do we just let this week go and "get back to normal". In a way, I hope so. In another, I hope not. Because the next time I recite The Lord's Prayer I'll be more focused and heart-felt when I say, "Give us this day our daily bread..." and not worry as much about the whole debts/trespasses coin toss. After all, God will take care of that, like He does with all things.

That's faith and trust in something other than myself. Something I am working on.