Gratitude

Gratitude. Sometimes that can be such a tricky thing for me. I have so much to be grateful for, but I also have my set of eternal sadnesses. I don’t know how to balance these two sets all that well. Lately I’ve been searching, grasping, for something or someone to take the blame of sorts. Mostly, when I feel the general itch of sadness, I just want to think of someone, as the culprit. It’s certainly not fair, or just, but it’s a real struggle for me. I think this is because I have wished for a target for a long time. I have looked and looked for someone to hold some sort of blame for my tragedy, but there isn’t anyone that fits that bill. Honestly, those people mostly to blame are gone. It’s hard for me to maintain anger towards dead people. I don’t even want to. I don’t even like feeling anger, it makes me feel physically sick. Yet, sometimes there is this ball of emotion and anger and every possible feeling I can describe and it sits inside of me, unfocused and unreasoned. And when I discover that this sneaky ball, hard and unyielding, has taken up residence within me again, I wonder how often I’ll come back to this place. 

My dear friend said the other day that forgiveness has layers. I suppose that all of this mess, these tangled emotions, are just the discovery of another layer.  I have to remember that the discovery of another layer, the ability to be honest with myself about myself, is not an indication of failure. Rather, if I ever get to the place of contentment with my own personalized mess, that would be the moment of failure. I’m not content. I’m humbled. I’m feeling mostly like I should shut up and sit down. 

My children are always the best mirrors. We’ve been having this problem with Samuel lately: nothing is quite good enough. For instance, he will have a wonderful day playing in the leaves outside and digging in dirt and playing games, but by the end of the day he’s complaining about how all he really wanted to do was sword fight. He’s been seeking, almost searching, for the one thing that has disappointed him. He’s struggling and I haven’t really understood why. I’ve gotten angry in fact and quite impatient with him. I’ve said things, classic mother things, like, “If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.” Yet, honestly, when I look at the state of my own heart in recent days, I’ve been in the same place. I have focused my unreasonable ball of emotions on anything that’s missing...and there will always be something missing. Always. Gratitude has nothing to do with a perfect state of affairs and everything to do with an attitude of the heart. Oh how it hurts to see my six year old pitching a fit and know that I am doing the same thing. 

When I come to the realization that everything I’m feeling: anger, sadness, confusion, hurt, wistful, lost, etc...when I realize that all of these things simply ARE and have no focus on anyone or anything, I can begin to let them go. I melt. I fall into myself like a puddle on the floor. I release those I love from owing me anything at all. 

I know that part of the current layer I’m sifting through is just the Holidays. The hardest part of every year for me, for the past two years, has been the stretch from Sasha’s birthday at the end of October to the New Year. I can honestly say that this year it feels so good to be happy about Thanksgiving and Christmas. I am excited to decorate. I’m looking forward to new things. Yet, somehow there is so much else too. There is just so much. I don’t know what to do sometimes or what to feel. 

I long for a heart of gratitude this week. I know that my Father in Heaven is faithfully waiting to help me get to that place. And I believe that I will...because I can already feel myself melting.