During a week popularly devoted to giving thanks, I am reminded we can only give thanks well to the extent we have grieved well. Like it or not, suffering paves the way for thanksgiving. We will never come to grips with true gratitude until we reflect on the possibilities of what was, what is, and the gap between our hopes and reality.
Giving thanks is about living in this tension.
Tension between despair and gratitude remains presently before us in every moment.
Even now as I write, my kids continue to interrupt me. “Hey Dad, I’m hungry.” “Hey Dad, can we watch a show?” “Hey Dad. Hey, Dad. Hey, Dad.”
On one hand, I want to throw my computer through the window. No wonder writers rent an isolated cabin for a month to finish a book. Despite obvious social cues, headphones in my ears and my face buried at the keyboard, my kids will not leave me alone. But in the same moment, I am deeply grateful. I have a computer on which to write. I ate breakfast this morning and enjoyed a good cup of coffee. And I love the kids who interrupt me. Nine years ago doctors told us we would likely never have children. Now, we have two.
Thanksgiving offers us the invitation to experience gratitude while simultaneously honoring the losses of our heart.
What tension will confront you this week with the opportunity to process both loss and gratitude?
If you pay attention, you will discover your tensions.
My wife, girls, and I will spend Thanksgiving with my wife’s family. I love them. I recognize many people do not look forward to holidays precisely because of family. Nothing stirs up feelings like blood and marital ties. Knowing this gives me a deeper gratitude for my in-laws and extended family. And yet, the week ahead will not all be smooth sailing. My wife lamented as we packed. “I miss Grandma,” she said. Seeing her family will confront her with the lingering truth that life takes loved ones away from us. Though the years have softened the absence of her grandmother, memory lingers, and sadness accompanies it.
Sadness guides our heart to engage a world of loss. It allows our heart the chance to say, “I’ve lost something or someone I deeply valued.” In times of grief, the extent to which we are sad informs us how much we valued that person, thing, or dream.
In a world of loss, the only way to maintain or recover heart is to learn to grieve well. Those who grieve well live well. It is the only way to keep your heart intact. If you want to give thanks, you must first confront loss.
Listen to your heart this week. Whether it shouts or whispers, it speaks the truth of what hurts and what there is to be grateful for. This is what it means to live in tension. This is what it means to give thanks.
