Rehearsing our “Thankful-fors”
Having a range of ages in my family (15 down to 4), I realized recently that I’ve been doing bedtime routines with little ones for over a decade. Over the years and with various kids it’s looked differently. My oldest would listen to stories far longer than any normal child. With two of my boys, the routine always closed with a song, “Jesus Loves Me” or “Bushel and a Peck” (which was my Grandma’s special song she sang me) or some other request. For whatever reason, the linchpin of the bedtime routine these days with my four-, eight- and ten-year-old, who share a bedroom, is “thankful-fors.” It started last year, around Thanksgiving I believe, when I’d ask them right before prayers what they were thankful for. And since then the four-year old, at least, will not let me miss a single night of “thankful-fors.” Sometimes serious, sometimes silly, often sweet, but never, never skipped, I’ve gotten a range of answers over the year: from electricity to toes to chess to drawing pencils to Jesus to hinges to oxygen to sunsets. You name it; they’ve probably been thankful for it. And oddly enough, when you actually stop to think about each of these things in turn you realize afresh, the lavish goodness of God which pulses through every atom of created matter and reverberates through the creations of his creatures as well.
Each night, we turn these “thankful-fors” into prayers, thanking God, the giver of every good and perfect gift for the particular blessing of that day. This is my memory test because if it’s my turn to pray and I miss even one thing–and sometimes the list of “thankful-fors” is quite long–I’m met with a deep bedtime pout by a certain young sir. I reassure him that Jesus remembers it all, even if I can’t and I know God is so pleased with every lisped word of gratitude and every stumbling prayer.
But like so many things in life, this little routine which began for them has ministered to me. It’s hard to close the day irritated or anxious or self-focused when a little voice tells you, “I’m thankful for you and me, Mommy.” Or “please, Mommy, I’m not done with my thankful-fors!”
A minvan that finally gave up the ghost, or the holes in the knees of their hand-me-downs, seem like small things compared to the massive list of thankful-fors. And when I hear these whispered prayers, I can’t help but think, “Boy, are we rich.”
Habits like this shape us in more ways than we realize. Studies have shown that cultivating the habit of gratitude, impacts us on a physiological level: more serotonin and dopamine, better cortisol levels, better cardiac function, more gray matter, a regulated sympathetic nervous system, and a conditioning of the brain to filter negative ruminations to name but a few (see The Neuroscience of Gratitude and Its Effects on the Brain).
But what if there seems to be nothing for which to be thankful? We certainly all pass through those dark seasons of the soul where the heaviness of our hearts makes the very act of raising them in gratitude seem nearly impossible. In those seasons, I try to remember the fleas.
If you’ve ever read Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place, you will remember what I’m talking about. As Corrie and sister Betsie faced the infamous Ravensbrük concentration camp just north of Berlin as punishment for hiding Jews in their home in Holland, Corrie struggled with the unbearable conditions. As she was lying down to sleep, crowded into overflowing beds of women on reeking straw, Corrie felt the sting of a flea bite. Realizing the place was swarming with them, she exclaimed to her sister, “how can we live in such a place?” Betsie immediately prayed and asked God how, indeed, they could.
God brought to Betsie’s mind the verse they had read earlier that day from First Thessalonians. It read: “Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all. Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.” (5:14b-18). And God prompted Betsie and Corrie to pray and thank Him in all circumstances. So they thanked God for the fleas. Little did they know or understand then, but the fleas actually were their saving grace. The fleas of Barracks 28 meant the guards did not venture back to their quarters (they were afraid of picking up the unwanted tagalongs). The guards left the women of Baracks 28 largely unguarded, and consequently free to lead the other women in Bible study and prayer and all manner of exchanges of comfort. Indeed, as God would have it, there was reason to be thankful for the fleas.
So whether you feel like you have much to be thankful for or can barely lift your heavy heart up to God, as we enter into this season of thankfulness, I want to encourage you to try this as you close or open your days–not just once but habitually. Speak aloud to someone else and to God your gratitude for the things you’ve been given. Or alternatively, write down (daily) your “thankful-fors” as my little guy calls them. The act of putting words to our gratitude helps us to focus on our abundance rather than our lack. As the psalmist says, “I will sing unto the Lord for he has dealt bountifully with me” (Psalm 13:6).
What if we faced the frenzy of the Christmas season, with a sense of plenty, from a position of fresh reminders of our bounty rather than our want? Maybe, just maybe we’d be freed up to do more worship and less wishlists.
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