Vase of Thanks

I read the book and wanted it to change me. Instantly- a person with grateful attitude. But I am slow to learn and quick to lean on my old ways. So when the dishes pile and the toddler wakes at 4:00 am and my husband disappoints and I disappoint I am not thankful. Not grateful. Instead I grumble and complain and pity myself and worry too much.

I am trying.

Today I read her blog and try again. Ignore the dishes and instead grab a plastic red art caddy and empty it of the crayons and glue. Write the word "Eucharisteo" (give thanks) on paper and tape it on. I wish my handwriting were better but I feel glad anyway. Glad at the step I am taking again. Glad to keep trying. And the infant watches as I cut papers into various sizes of various colors and fill the caddy. Then I plop in some pens, too. He smiles like he understands when I explain this will help us give thanks. I smile back and feel thankful for him right to my bones.

I place the caddy on the dining room table and fight the feeling of doubt that this will be another failed attempt. I am hopeful. The rest of the day I am hopeful.

When we sit down to dinner, my husband, the kids, my mom and I all joined around a table, talking and laughing and eating, I hesitate, then plunge in and explain the "Eucharisteo" caddy.

"I thought, "I explain, "I thought that after dinner we could each write down some things we are thankful for and then put the papers..." I hadn't thought that far, but suddenly I decide they would look nice in a vase. A vase of thanks.  So I grab a large vase, too large for most of the flowers that make their way into our home but maybe the right size to hold our thanks for a little while. I place it on the table next to the caddy and feel great.

I am trying.

Reuben loves the idea and mom does, too. So after dinner we write our thanks and Naomi colors hers and we sit quiet for a minute until it's time to say them. Then around the table verbal thanks flows.

"For my family."

"The red tulips in the front yard."

"My job."

"Fresh fruits and vegetables."

"My health."

"Food to eat."

"Our tree in full spring bloom."

And I feel it. That joy rising up within me. This talk is more full, more fulfilling than our typical how was your day? Guess what my boss did? What's for dinner tomorrow? This talk was joy talk because giving thanks gives joy. And I feel it again. That feeling, deep in my bones. And I want to cry it out- "Let me learn it, Lord! Let me learn it now!" I don't want to grumble and complain and pity and worry. I want to give thanks. Receive joy. Live alive. And full.

I am trying.

And I see them there. Little pieces of thanks in a vase looking out. And me looking in on our thanks. Wondering how many papers I can fill tomorrow.