A birthday prayer: Even with challenges, so many reasons for gratitude

Dear Lord . . .

Like most of my holidays in the last couple of years, this one will be quiet, but that’s OK. I’m learning to celebrate the blessing of quiet. Each new “Happy Birthday” greeting I receive will remind me that I really do have many reasons to be grateful. And since gratitude is a more significant emotion than happiness, I’ll savor the measure of each I’m feeling today.

Creature comforts

April 2020, our pleasant “shelter-in-place place.”

Two years ago I posted a picture of spring flowers blooming profusely in our backyard in the early months of the Covid shutdown. The caption: “Thanking God for my most pleasant shelter-in-place place.”

The Facebook memory reminds me of the gratitude I feel for a comfortable home in a pleasant neighborhood, surrounded by a yard that’s a little unkempt but still stunning with the season’s assortment of rose and purple and crimson. (Evelyn has been keeping track of daily progress with the pink magnolia beside our deck, commenting on the brightening blossoms every lunchtime for two weeks.)

No one should call us wealthy, but our sufficient retirement accounts have not yet been too blasted by this year’s economic roller coaster. Money isn’t everything, I know, but having some makes the bad things better. I’m thankful, God, that we have some!

Money isn’t everything, but having some makes the bad things better.

Our house is paid for. The car’s running fine. (The mechanic told me next week’s soon enough to address the emissions warning light that just popped on.) I think we’ve killed all the mice in the attic and plugged all the likely entryways.

Doctors are responsive. And, speaking of healthcare, I think I’m in pretty good shape. Thank you, God, for blessing me so far with the answer I want to the prayer I’ve been repeating for at least a couple of years, now. “Lord, please keep me alive as long as Evelyn needs me to care for her.” (And thanks, Lord, for letting me know about at least a couple of other caregivers who have prayed the same prayer and received the same blessing.)

Emotional support

We’re surrounded by people who care for us. We just spent a rejuvenating weekend with longtime, long-distance friends who gave attention to Evelyn and grace to us both, even with a couple of stressing speedbumps. (It was the first time I’ve lost Evelyn in a crowd. Thanks, God, for helping me somehow to find her amid the hubbub.) The rekindled relationships, laughter, long talks, tears, eating, and then more eating were all such renewal for me.

Friendships, all of them begun decades ago, were rekindled in a weekend gathering in Lexington last weekend.

Yesterday a friend came for dinnertime with Evelyn while I attended a volunteer appreciation event at the place I serve on Fridays. This weekend our daughter will come for a visit, and Saturday she and I will attend a touring Broadway show while another friend spends the afternoon with Evelyn. That night our usual Saturday circle of six will gather for supper.

I see the loneliness in the lives of some other caregivers and realize anew what a remarkable gift we have in all these warm and loving—and fun—contacts! And in this prayer I’ve not mentioned everyone who reaches out to us. Thank you, God, for the fellowship of so many in the body of Christ who have rushed to support us, two weakening members of it!

Less happy, more blessed

Every day—and I’m not exaggerating—every single day I find new reasons to ask you for help, Lord. Frankly, I think I was happier when I was more independent, more self-reliant, more oblivious to my own frailty. And in a way that some will not understand, this growing awareness—spurred by the stress of pressing need—is a blessing too.

One of those friends I was with this weekend reminded me, “God is not nearly as interested in what we do or achieve as he cares about who we are becoming.” I like to think I’m becoming less arrogant, more gracious, more patient, and more aware of my daily need for you. Of course, that need has always been there. Even though I’d be willing to make a significant dent in those retirement accounts to purchase healing for Evelyn, I’ll thank you for what I’m learning and what I may slowly be becoming because she is not well.

I’ll thank you for what I’m learning and what I may slowly be becoming.

Happy birthday? “Happy” doesn’t quite say it. But, God, I think you know I’m feeling something more substantive and less self-centered than that. Meanwhile, you won’t begrudge me the pleasure I’ll feel in cheery Facebook greetings, dinner out tonight (probably) with Evelyn, and cards in my mailbox.

I know you’re not against happiness, Lord. But I’m coming to understand that you’re the giver of some things that are worth even more.

Thank you, God, for all of them.