I had a moment the other day.
It was 4:00 PM and I was tenaciously trying to get supper in
the crockpot (yes you read that right) because it was on my list and, while logic clearly says that 4:00 is much
too late to be putting supper in the crockpot, for heaven’s sake, logic is clearly
not a part of my life right now, and the to-do list is the only thing that is keeping my postpartum brain from completely falling apart. And while I
was in my crockpot frenzy, my normally easy-going 2 week old decided to put on
his fussy pants and I had to strap him in the front carrier to keep him calm
so I could get supper ready 6 hours too late. And while I was running around
the kitchen with an infant strapped to my chest, I heard a cry coming from the
living room and walked in to find my fully potty-trained 2 year old pulling off
her pants that she had just pooped in. And while I tried to make the least
possible mess removing the poopy pants, I glanced out the window and saw my
fully capable 5 year old riding her bike in the driveway with no pants on, in
full view of all the neighbors who were getting home from work and school at
that very moment.
It was an instance in time when my life seemed epically
mundane.
Give thanks in all
circumstances.
I am thankful. I am thankful that the half-cooked crockpot
dinner means that we have food in our house at all. I am thankful that the tantrums
and poop and half-dressed kiddos mean that I have a quiver full of blessings
from the Lord. I am thankful that even in my most frustrating moments, things
are never as bad as they could be.
But, even though it is good and right to be thankful for these
things, it is really not enough. Because, as overwhelming as my moment seemed
the other day, it really doesn’t hold a candle to the kind of suffering and
trials that make it hard to be grateful. Because there are people who have an
empty womb and an empty house and empty dreams. Because there are people who
live with excruciating physical pain or unspeakable grief and who cannot even
crawl to the throne to utter an “at least it’s not as bad as it could be” kind
of prayer. Because there are people in this world who really cannot give thanks
for their circumstances.
But that’s not what we are commanded to do anyway.
Give thanks in all
circumstances.
I am redeemed. I was lost and blind and dead and enslaved,
and my Creator made Himself small and put on flesh and came to this cursed
earth to buy me back with His very own blood. I can give thanks for that in all
circumstances.
I have a promise. A promise that nothing in this life goes
to waste, that God works all things together for my good, that my sanctification
is sure and my future is secure. I can give thanks for that in all
circumstances.
I have a Helper. He is the God of all comfort, He is eternal
wisdom, He is sovereign and wise and good. He directs my path and never leaves
me or forsakes me. He is a rock and a refuge, a sun and a shield. He is eternal
and immutable and perfect. He is my Father, and I can give thanks for that in
all circumstances.
So on the mundane days or the perfectly smooth days (do
those exist?) or on the worst day of my life, let me remember this: A heart of
gratitude is more focused on the Lord of the circumstances than the
circumstances themselves – Because while circumstances are up and down and
always shifting, our Father is unchanging and is always good.
In all circumstances.
