I grew up in a house where good manners were not just a nice
idea. They were pretty much required to
live. If one of us said “what?!” my Mom
would instantly correct us to “pardon me”.
‘Please’, ‘thank you’ and ‘excuse me’ were the bare minimum and we moved
on from there. We were expected to sit
patiently, chew quietly and never talk about bathroom things. I realize in hindsight that Mom set herself
up for years of frustration, because breaking the manner rules made life
hilarious for my brothers and despite her best efforts, I still ended up more
salty than sweet.
Gratitude as Scripture depicts has us running flat out to
Jesus, falling at his feet in worship.
It changes us completely. The
source of our gratitude is in who God is and that alone should set the believer
apart. Our recognition of all God has
done should be the loudest part of our testimony. It should enable us to give thanks in
everything (1Thess 5:18).
It is the season for thanksgiving and like other years, I
will cook a big turkey and laugh at the banter of my kids. I will try to prepare myself for the mess and
the noise. And, like other years, I’m
sure I will be well aware of what a sweet, sweet blessing it is to have all the
seats full around the table.
But there
is more. It is more than what I have
that makes me thankful, more even than the people I love most. There is One who loved me first and whose
sacrifice merits my whole heart in response.
He calls me to live differently:
joyfully, graciously, gratefully.
I find myself stepping a little more reverently into the
season this year.
The extravagance of Jesus is not lost on me. I am so, so grateful, and by God’s grace, more committed to
stay that way.