Unthanksgiving

As I sat in my little corner, jeans soaked and covered in mud, crouching down, legs both asleep I find myself in the middle of working on a water problem, thinking can I get this one last project done tonight, and I stopped and stared at my hands. They were very worn today, covered in dirt, knuckles cut, finger nails dirty as if I was a man who was accustomed to such labor, not just on the occasion when something needs fixing, no far more times my fingers are worn from typing but not from such good labor. This was a special week it was my wife’s birthday this past Monday so perhaps I felt obligated to check off a few of those honey dos (in actuality I put most of the list together by myself). I thought to myself quietly as I was working through this problem, attempting to keep my patience, God I deserve better than this. God I want a house that will not often break down and require me to fix things.
I enjoy using my hands for such labor from time to time but this was not one of those times. I was tired and worn from a good days work even though I had not worked as I would normally for today was a holiday. I felt a certain injustice, a righteous indignance, as if the God of the universe owed me something, after all I am serving Him faithfully does he not owe me? And it is thanksgiving I want this project to be over and done with so I actually have something to be grateful about.
Immediately I thought about the person who took the time to purchase the equipment I needed for the job and I was grateful for that but I still was sulking about the fact that I even had to be working on it. Once again my mind drifted as I tried to distract myself from the task at hand, Sean I said to myself you could be living in Africa in a hut with a mud floor, there ARE people who have it worse than you, but then I thought to myself do those people really exist? Truthfully I know they do but they do not exist in my world, perhaps I need something like that to exist in my world to teach me real gratitude. We’ve all seen the commercials with the balding white man in the middle of the bush with starving African children asking for money, those people exist on TV but not in my world. Or do they?
As I thought more I began to realize that those people do subsist in my life. 2 weeks ago I spent the weekend with three high school students who over the course of 2 days had a fully healthy mother, then was diagnosed with aggressive Leukemia, and 36 hours later was gone. I stared at the pain in their eyes as I asked God to give them the peace that passes all understanding. Thankful, I am thankful that I have 2 healthy parents who are still alive, there are so many people who do not.
I was reminded about Sofia Isabel De La Cruz the young girl about the same age as my son who we sponsor through Compassion in Columbia. Her family lives in poverty struggling to survive, wondering where the next meal will come from, how will their daughter receive education so she can work herself out of her poverty. Thankful, I am thankful that my 3 children only go hungry because they do not want to eat their vegetables or the casserole that my wife made (her cooking is quite exceptional even if the kids do not always eat it). Thankful, I am thankful that my son receives a quality education from a Christian institution that teaches him math and reading but also teaches him the Scriptures.
My wife lost her dad to cancer when she was finishing high school. I see the scars that it left in her eyes and on her heart every day. Thankful, I am thankful that even though I never met him I see him every day in my wife, and in his 2 other daughters, and in his loving wife, all who exemplify such selflessness and grace that it could have only been instilled by a great man of God.
As I type I am listening to John Coltrane and thinking about Blue Like Jazz a book by Donald Miller and movie by Steve Taylor that my wife and I recently rough cut screened and I am thinking about how many people grow up without real father figures in their lives and how skewed their view of God as Father must be. Thankful, I am thankful that I had a father who exemplified Christ to me. I see heartache and sorrow all around me, so many stories I could fill pages and pages with pain and agony. I begin to think to myself what about these people? What about the ones who are experiencing such grief what do they have to be thankful for? As I questioned earlier does God not owe them something this Thanksgiving?
Then I am reminded of what a professor of apologetics I had in seminary said as he was discussing the death of his wife at a very young age; God is no stranger to pain and sorrow, in fact God is very accustomed to such pain. He watched His only Son die the most horrific death, that of crucifixion, and I see that there is much to be thankful for because although God does not always see fit to spare us from such trials he is no outsider to them when we go through them. Thankful, I am thankful that I serve a God like that.
As I stare back at my hands I think they are worn just like my Savior Christ’s were who had the hands of a carpenter, and who often had hands covered in dirt, knuckles cut, finger nails dirty, as He was a man who was accustomed to such labor. Thankful, I am thankful for my little corner, my jeans soaked and covered in mud, crouching down, legs both asleep, I am thankful for this water problem that reminds me to have hands and feet like Jesus who being in the very form of God did not consider equality as something to be grasped but rather humbled himself and took on the form of man (having hands like a man) became obedient even to the point of death on a cross and it reminds me what being thankful is really all about. What are you truly thankful for?

 

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~ by sm052700 on November 24, 2011.