Grace, Gratitude, and Joy

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
~James 1:2 NLT

Studying the book of James has been... convicting. To say the least. Then I started reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I'm getting the impression that I'm in need of a dramatic attitude adjustment! My experience at the zoo on Friday confirmed this for me. Friday was the day of the grand opening for the new penguin exhibit. When we arrived, we were greeted by an impenetrable wall of people. We were told by zoo staff that we'd have to wait, unable to view any of the exhibits, until the grand opening ceremony was finished. A wait of a few minutes, maybe half an hour, no one knew for sure. I was instantly annoyed. I was frustrated that they hadn't figured out a way to let people get past who simply wanted to see the rest of the zoo. I was also disappointed that I was being delayed in meeting up with my friend - a total waste of prime "just got to the zoo and the kids are still calm" visiting time. I let the zoo person know I wasn't impressed. I wasn't overly rude, I simply communicated my displeasure. (I think I said something like, "Well, that's a hassle," and walked away in a huff.) But was my negativity necessary? Did I really need to turn a minor inconvenience into a reason to be grumpy with someone who was simply doing her job? How could I have changed my attitude?

Reading One Thousand Gifts has challenged me to re-think everyday annoyances and frustrations. Turn them into a gift, a thing of beauty, something for which to be grateful. As James says, consider it joy. I'm thinking this isn't going to be an overnight transformation. It might be a bit more difficult than putting on rose-coloured glasses and deciding not to let my circumstances affect my attitude. This is starting to remind me of my post on patience - it sounds like a whole lot of work. But, if intentional gratitude is the path to joy-filled living, then it would be worth the work. So here's my attempt to turn some of my recent frustrations into opportunities for gratitude and joy.

1. Logan moments - My tactile/kinesthetic learner provides plenty of practice in turning frustration into joy. My initial response upon seeing rice krispies (or water, or dog food, or playdough, or toilet paper, or stuffing from the couch) scattered randomly is instant irritation. My response to situations like this is super important, though - I do not want my son growing up thinking there's something wrong with him. That his desire to experience life with all 5 senses all the time is something of which to be ashamed. So, as James instructs, I consider... My beautiful boy is a glorious reflection of a creative God. He learns through touching and moving. I give thanks for his curiosity, his mischief, his creativity. He is a good gift. (I am also grateful for the patience and humility that are being birthed in me as a result of being his mom!!)

2. Bedrooms converted to swimming pools - Again, frustration is the easy default. It's messy, potentially dangerous, and creates extra work at bedtime. But when I stop and consider... They're being creative, they're co-operating, they're taking turns and having fun together. They're getting exercise. There is much beauty in the middle of this mess. And in a little more than 6 months, my oldest starts kindergarten. Scenes like this will start to become more rare. I will miss our long days at home with no agenda, the endless adventures 3 siblings can dream up. I am grateful for this mess!

3. Kids waiting for Dad to come home at the end of a long day. A Saturday, in fact, and he's working much later than I had expected. Anger is my default reaction. But this does no good - I do not want him arriving home to a grumpy wife. I stop and consider all the gifts in this situation for which I can be grateful. He has a job, one he loves, one that challenges him and gives him opportunities to use his gifts and abilities. He is a strong, loving, good man who works hard to provide for us. And no matter how long or tiring or stressful his day was, he always greets me with a smile and a kiss and an "I love you." Always. I am grateful.

Thinking back to my day at the zoo, I had so much to be thankful for - a warm, sunny day in February to marvel at God's creativity in the animal kingdom. A good friend to spend time with. No diapers or strollers to haul around! And I was cranky because I had to wait for 20 minutes longer than I was expecting... I ignored all the goodness, and focused on the one negative. I need an optometrist for my soul.

As I've started practicing gratitude more intentionally, I've noticed that anger, frustration, and resentment evaporate in the presence of thankfulness. As I focus on those things in any given moment that are good and beautiful, I am less at the mercy of more hurtful and counter-productive reactions. It's all about my focus, training my eyes to see the beauty and the gifts. I have also found myself operating less in survival mode - as I embrace the discipline of seeing God's goodness in all of my moments, I find my days more enjoyable. I am not wishing away this time and constantly looking ahead to future stages of life as somehow holding the key to joy. The joy is here and now, because God's goodness is everywhere!

It's hard work though, and not all moments are as easy to find the good in as my examples. I am trusting God that as I practice with the little things, the mundane and everyday things, that the eyes of my soul will be wide open when much harder things come. That I will be able to find joy in the middle of true hardship. That's a goal worth working towards.

Learning from Emmanuel, and "being with"

I was 15 years old, and I desperately wanted to see Robocop. Well, I thought I wanted to see it. I'd been invited by my mom's youngest 2 siblings, who were actually more like my big brother and big sister than uncle and aunt. I think I mostly wanted to hang out with them, and I felt quite flattered that they would include me. To my utter devastation (I was 15, remember), my parents decided that I couldn't go. With the benefit of maturity and hindsight, this was the right decision. That movie would have been way too violent for me. I did not have the benefit of maturity or hindsight back then, so I threw myself a lavish pity party in my bedroom! In the middle of the melodrama, my dad knocked on the door. He had come down to say he was sorry. He hadn't changed his mind - they still thought it was best that I didn't go - but he was sorry that I was taking it so hard. I remember seeing a look in his eyes. A look that said, "I'm hurting because you're hurting." And it kinda took the wind out of my sails. I was still sad, but I wasn't really mad at my parents anymore.

This ability - to see, think and feel from another's perspective - can be difficult to practice as a parent. I often find myself so focused on what my kids should be doing that I neglect to consider why they're doing what they're doing. Picture this: a small for his age 4-year-old boy is scream-crying in a van, doing everything he can to avoid getting into his car seat. He even runs to the back of the van and starts pounding on the rear window with his little fists. His parents try a series of tactics to persuade him into his seat - he resists them all. (If only this was hypothetical!) Before I had kids, I would have raised my eyebrows at this scenario. Wondered why the parents were letting this little hooligan get away with such antics. What I wouldn't have known is that the boy in distress had just said goodbye to his aunt and uncle, and he was quite upset about it. It may have reminded him of how much he was already missing his grandparents.  Maybe he thought he should have given one more hug or blown one more kiss, and the adults hadn't paid enough attention to his needs.

In moments like this, when I'm feeling frustrated and impatient and completely out of ideas, I need to remember what it's like to feel really sad and out of control of my circumstances. I need to dig deep for a little empathy, look at the situation through my child's eyes and ask myself, "If I was him, what would it take to calm me down?" Looking back, I suspect that waiting a few minutes until he was ready to be consoled and acknowledging his sadness and frustration would have helped. Again, hindsight... Why am I always in such a rush? Why do I feel like I have to prove something by insisting on immediate compliance with my wishes? Sigh... If I want my kids to develop empathy for others, I need to model it for them. I need to acknowledge their emotional reality even if I can't give them what they want in that moment. Often, that means slowing down long enough to look in their eyes and let them know that I'm with them. That if they're hurting, I'm hurting. That I don't want to ride rough-shod over their hearts just because I'm on some schedule.

This idea of "being with" is modelled so perfectly by Jesus. I am overwhelmed when I think about God becoming one of us. He came to be with us - to feel what we feel, to see, hear, taste, smell and touch life with us. "He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human!" (Philippians 2:6,7 MSG) To follow His example means that I must ever strive to be with; to understand, as deeply as possible, where my kids are coming from. I must learn to put aside my pride and my parental ego and stop clinging to my preferences. It's not all about me.

They say learning isn't so much what's taught, as what's caught. Let's hope my kids catch this one.