"For the Beauty of the Earth"

Gratitude is not a four-letter word. We’re so saturated with platitudes about it that, especially when life leaves much to be desired, it feels like one. Anyone in a crisis is prone to flip “The attitude determines the altitude!” off their shoulder like a bug. And then glare at it. I have. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. An attitude of gratitude is not as empty as the words may sometimes sound. Practice it when you observe the beauty of the earth, or anything else, and see if it doesn’t lift you up even a little.

For some, the holidays are the “hap-happiest season of all”. A time to gather with family and bask in the warmth of all they have. For others, it’s the armpit of the year. A time not to enjoy, but to endure, because it’s one big stark reminder of all they’re missing. Empty chairs at the table where loved ones once sat. Absent chairs where loved ones have yet to sit. A lack of money, work, health, friends, family, love. Anything that is there is shadowed by the ghosts of what’s not, and whatever we could curse about our situation, we curse worse than ever.

I’m guilty.

But how different might this season be if we threw those shadows off what we have? Considered what our lives would be if all that was gone, too? And thanked God it’s not? If we looked away from the empty places long enough to count the full ones?

We’d probably count much higher than we expected.

For the Beauty of Blessings Taken for Granted

All but three of the pictures in that video you just watched (or are going to watch now 😉) are mine. If I didn’t take them myself, I was there when they were. I’m even in one. That’s me framed in my sister’s heart-shaped hands.

person framed in heart-shaped hands on beach in sunset — Prince Edward Island

I’ve never been able to capture a rainbow or the night sky so exquisitely. I borrowed those photos. And while I’d like to claim that’s my little silhouetted family, I had to borrow them, too.

But I’ve seen exquisite rainbows and night skies, and while my family doesn’t look like the one in the picture, I do still have one. A good one.

These are beauties of the earth I’ve traveled to and wonders of life I’ve witnessed in my own front yard.

mountain vista overlooking fall colors — Nebo Loop Scenic Byway

waterfall in pine trees — Glacier National Park

two red apples on apple tree — Our apple tree

What if I couldn’t see any of it?

I’m missing a few things from my life, but I have my sight. And God created a glorious world to see. I’m grateful. For the joy of a rainbow, the peace of a sunset, the calm of the waves. For vehicles that transport me to these beautiful places, and for a job that provides the means to utilize those vehicles (we got that shot of the snowy mountains on a flight to Washington, D.C.).

I’m grateful for a body that can walk those beaches, climb those mountains, hike those trails, tend those flowers. Without pain or hindrance.

I was out shopping last weekend and saw two people who walked like their bones and joints were at war with the movement. Every step the man in Sam’s Club took with his right leg seemed to wrench his whole spine, and in front of us at the Hobby Lobby checkout stood a girl whose knees appeared to lock involuntarily with every step.

What injuries or defects left them so crippled? What pain do they suffer daily?

I don’t know. My mobility has never been compromised.

What a blessing.

But how many blessings do even they count every day? Perhaps there was a time they thought they’d never walk again. Yet there they are on their feet.

For all we take for granted because we can do it every day with hardly a conscious thought, and for all we don’t take for granted anymore because we almost lost it but didn’t–

“Lord of all, to thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.”

If you can’t be content with what you have received, be thankful for what you have escaped.
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For the Beauty of Adversity

I know there are a million people who could read this and say, “Well, that’s nice that you can be grateful for all that. I haven’t been so fortunate.”

People who can’t walk, can’t see, haven’t had the same opportunities. Or who can and have but the blessings sometimes feel like curses because it’s not a very beautiful world they’ve been exposed to. How many things do they wish they hadn’t seen? Or walked through?

I acknowledge that God has provided for and protected me overwhelmingly. I live a sheltered life. Throw my trials in a heap with everyone else’s and let me choose which ones to take back, and I will gladly reclaim my own. Next to the infernos some people battle, I’m pretty sure I’m crying over burned toast.

God has made it easy for me to be grateful. I know it’s not so easy for some, and I know I can’t speak for those experiences. If ever advice is guaranteed to be trite and spurned, it’s when it comes from someone who doesn’t have a clue.

But I believe that what I can say for my experience, such as it’s been, is true–at least can be true–no matter the depth of your abyss.

You be the judge.

What I know is that my small adversities have brought me to my Savior. I’ve found him in everything I’ve gone without and come to know him in a way I never could have if he’d opened the floodgates and poured on me all the desires of my heart. Would I have sought him, needed him, wanted him if he had?

Would I have known that he sought and wanted me? If there was never an abyss for him to come find me in, or for me to seek him in?

He’s been as deep as my abyss is. That’s why he can walk it with me. And does.

He’s also been way deeper.

Whatever pain or deprivation might make this season less than “merry and bright” for you, whether it’s equivalent to burned toast or an inferno, is there a hymn of grateful praise to be raised for a Savior who is your light in the darkness? Who leads and even carries you through it and brings you out, if you’ll allow it, far more refined than you were when you went in?

I raise one.

For the Beauty of Coexisting Emotions

Perhaps my biggest struggle with gratitude platitudes has been the impression they convey that gratitude is some kind of magic eraser.

“Gratitude turns what we have into enough.”

“If you want to find happiness, find gratitude.”

As though to be grateful is to no longer miss what’s missing because everything that’s here will suddenly fill all the holes.

It won’t. No matter how grateful you are.

I’m thankful for my family. But I still miss the family I haven’t met yet. And my dad who’s not here anymore.

I’m so glad I’m not trapped in a rotten relationship. But I still wish I was in a good one.

I thank God I have a home. But I still long to be a wife and mother and keeper of my own.

Gratitude for needs that are met does not erase needs that aren’t.

But it does soothe the sting. Turns a negative attitude in a positive direction. Maybe makes your half empty glass half full. Which is always a better place to be, even if it’s still not quite where you wish you were.

Those gratitude platitudes are true. To be grateful is to be happy. Your attitude does determine your altitude. What you have can be enough.

But all these words of wisdom need the rest of the story, which is this:

“Grief and gratitude can sit at the same table.”

They have to. Because gratitude isn’t a magic eraser. But grief is too big a burden to carry without it.

So, for the beauty of the earth, for all we take for granted, for all we have that gets lost in what we don’t, for trials, big or small, that lead us to Christ, and for the peaceful coexistence of contentment and desire–

“Lord of all, to thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise.”

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing. Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise; be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.
Psalm 100

Whether the holidays are happy or hard for you, I hope something here has lent perspective to how you approach them. Share in the comments what you’re feeling grateful for this holiday season, and please share this post if it has in some way touched your heart.