It comes slowly, so I’ll keep at it—again and again and again

A friend wrote after reading last week’s post to say, “I’m deeply moved by your practice of gratitude.”

That’s a nice compliment, but the most important word in it is practice. Gratitude takes practice. Perhaps it’s easier for some than others; perhaps it’s easier for me.

But when I repeat the same request six or eight times and then I need to say it again, when the spill I anticipated makes the mess I feared, or when the last-minute interruption on the way to the car threatens to make us late, gratitude is not my first reaction.

So I practice. And like repeating scales at the piano or phrases from the language-learning app or exercises in the gym, practice—again and again and again—does yield a result.

Bright spots

So I keep practicing. But I’ll hasten to add that beautiful bright spots in every week help gratitude come more easily.

This Saturday, for example, we hosted brunch for four friends who have been in our lives for decades. They volunteered to bring the food when I invited them for a Christmas get-together and this time I let them. The cleaning lady had been here Thursday, so about all for me to do was make the coffee, set out the orange juice, and get out the Christmas dishes.

Their food was wonderful. Even better was the laughter around the table. Then we exchanged gifts, each of them a delight to give and receive because all of them were extras. It’s a treat to get something new that you didn’t really need.

Such plenty

The fact is my life is blessed with an abundance so rich I’ve almost forgotten what it is to need. These are the days when we’re giving away clothes from crowded closets, ridding our full refrigerator and pantry of food we bought but didn’t eat, and choosing from uncounted dozens of ways to entertain ourselves with offerings available on any one of several screens we’ve purchased without counting the cost.

I remember the times when my wife and I were living with little margin: deciding which bill could wait till the next paycheck, figuring out how much car we could get for the payment we could afford, and satisfying ourselves with a big night out for dollar soft-serve cones from Ameristop.

In my little volunteer stint each week, I encounter folks in situations much more difficult than even our worst cash-strapped days. Most would say I shouldn’t feel guilty or undeserving when I compare their lack with my plenty. Maybe so, but at least I can be grateful.

 Infinite yes

The truth is that God has showered his blessing even on those living with little. An online devotion last week quoted e.e. cummings:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

I can relate. Even in the string of gray days common in Ohio Valley Novembers and Decembers, there is beauty. A scarlet cardinal and his mate flit through the branches of the magnolia beside our deck. In neighborhoods all around us, proud evergreens stand at attention, undaunted by the wind, looking forward to the snow that will soon rest on their branches. One day not long ago, many I know posted pictures of a sunrise resplendent with shades of orange and purple too brilliant to describe.

If I will stop even briefly to pay attention, I’ll be grateful. Maybe it’s the stopping I most need to practice.

Idle dreams

Sometimes I daydream about what my life would be like if my wife weren’t sick. I think about all I do that she would be doing: cooking, cleaning and sorting and pitching out, tending laundry, remembering birthdays, replenishing our little pill boxes week after week. What would I do with all that time filled today with duties I’ve taken on as Evelyn’s ability has deteriorated?

Would I read more? Pray more? Would I spend more moments than I think I have now to ponder a habit of gratitude?

Somehow I doubt it.

So instead, I’ll work with what I’ve been given: the privilege and the burden of serving Evelyn after so many decades of receiving so much from her. Certainly, it’s often not easy. But I can be grateful for the opportunity.

If I’ll practice.