Day 7: When hurts run deeper than thanks

I screeched into the darkened church, tucking my hair behind my ear and double checking my phone ringer.  Silent.  Good.  The soft glow of the candles called my pace to slow after the go go go work day and then dropping off the kids.  MY TIME had been frantic this week, but a breath came slower as I sensed that I was in just the right place.

Then out came Pam with the Kleenex boxes.

“Oh great,” I thought.  “This had better not be one of THOSE types of worship services.”

Let’s just say this German Lutheran farm gal gets fidgety with public emotion-type stuff.  I wasn’t exactly sure why I was at my church’s healing service.  And yet I was.  This year marked the loss of my grandmother and my uncle.  Plus, heading back to work after maternity leave had me feeling sad and anxious.  If I wasn’t re-thinking something I should have done, I was planning and re-organizing thoughts of what I might do in the future to prevent negative things from happening.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  Thoughts buzzing anywhere but here, now.

In the course of the evening, I was guarded, and yet I could sense something at work–and not in the way I anticipated.  No, I wasn’t crying much.  I felt ashamed that I didn’t have the guts to go there, as I reluctantly utilized one of the tissues.  The men’s choir sang lyrics like a mirror reflecting grace, but even in the midst of that beauty, I didn’t have the courage or mental stamina to really let myself feel anything.  I sat.  Tuned out, somehow waiting for my “your way right away” healing to begin.

I didn’t have to have some big emotional response, but ancient words have a way of sinking into us.  The next morning when I read that old familiar prayer, the words I’ve said over and over again rang with new life.

Give us this day our daily bread. . . Today is what we have.
Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. . . Let go of the past.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. . . The future is in someone else’s hands, and healing comes IN HIS TIME, not mine.

#167.  An e-mail that reminds me I’m not alone in my need for healing.

Day 7 Challenge:

  • One way that it helps me to live gratitude is to tell someone else the message I need to hear myself.  Today, share what you’re learning about gratitude with someone else, in social media, or in real life.

*This post is part of a 30-day gratitude challenge.  Subscribe via e-mail (on the left) or post a gratitude to WIN A PIE HERE.

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