Gratitude

What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?

This question was posed by a friend’s Facebook post last week.  I read it and paused to thank God specifically for my husband, as I’d just traded email with a woman who recently lost hers.  I did a quick inventory of what I’d thanked God for the day before and duly noted that I wasn’t returning thanks to God for so much as a fraction of all He’s given me.  Must do a better job of that, I thought.

How that thought has haunted me since…

My husband called me when he arrived to pick up my daughter from her art class but she wasn’t waiting outside, “Is she with you?”  I replied that she wasn’t.  He said he’d call me back after he’d looked some more.  I prayed, asking God to show us where she was.  I wasn’t panicked… yet.  After checking with the art teacher, and a more thorough search of the surrounding area, he called:  she was nowhere to be found.

I prayed again.  Then I called the police, issuing information about her:  name, age, description, last known location, what she was wearing, and that this was unusual behavior.  My other children instinctively put on their coats and shoes amidst their tears.  We prayed as I drove us all to meet the police and my husband at art, my eyes scanning feverishly as I looked for her on the rain-drenched sidewalks along our route.  Officers were on site when I arrived; my husband was relating more details about her.  We handed them a photo of our daughter.  It was utterly surreal.

Had I thanked God for my child yesterday?

I called a neighbor to ask for prayer.  I called two other friends as well, but couldn’t get through, and couldn’t bear to leave the message.  Both patrol cars left to canvass the area; my husband departed to do the same.  I stayed in front of the art building, in hopes of her return.  Calling for her.  Pacing.  Crying.  Praying.

My phone rang.  It was the neighbor I’d reached.   She saw my daughter walking up our street towards home, in the rain.  My daughter was safe.  Inexplicably, she’d walked herself home… something she’d never done before, nor anything we had ever asked of her.  It was out of character and out of protocol.  I marveled at God’s sovereignty:  the one person I’d reached was the one person who saw her.

I called my husband and notified the police.  I sobbed as I ran to my car, thanking God.  We raced home.  I couldn’t get there fast enough; I had to see her – hold her – myself to confirm her well-being.  There were no words of chastisement during that embrace, only gratitude to God for the gift of my daughter.

I know not all similar stories have such simple explanations and happy endings.  In fact, I know it well.  I certainly don’t contend that missing children are a consequence for ingratitude, but He used those interminable moments of worry to show me mine.

God has been exceedingly generous to me.  He owed me nothing, yet has granted me immeasurable blessing, demonstrated singularly in the sacrifice of Christ.  Oh, but how much more!  Yes, I’ve experienced losses and continue to face challenges, but His gifts abound.  And He was gracious enough to reveal my presumptuous nature that I would enjoy another day, another hour, of such prosperity.

It is His right to give, His right to take away.  It is my responsibility to return thanks and acknowledge the Giver.

While [Job] was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked I will depart.
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised.”

In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.

–Job 1:18-22

Suggested reading:  Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts.
Related music: Great is Thy Faithfulness