Gratitude. Thankfulness.
Appreciation. Acknowledgment of blessings in one's life and in their
day-to-day.
I could quote an entire
Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin talk that eloquently embodies nearly all the things I
feel about gratitude, but since it wouldn't make one droplet of sense to
copy/paste the whole address, I'll just provide the link here.
I will at least
quote Elder Wirthlin quoting somebody else: "The Roman orator Cicero
claimed [gratitude to be] 'not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of
all others.'"
The 2017 Thanksgiving
holiday is coming up in a week, and I want to get myself into the spirit of the
season—to prepare my
heart. I like to write, and so what I thought I could do is attempt to express
what's kind of *breathing* deep down in those Alisonian depths, regarding why
gratitude is important to me, or what I've sensed gratitude has done to
me over time, to change me as a person. Because I do believe conscious
continual practice of sincere gratitude changes a person.
I've charged myself to make
sure I always tell God something I'm thankful to Him for, in every single
prayer I send up. The "something" could be a little thing. Could be
big. Could've been a cloud-nine day, or it could've been horrendous. It might
be an overall full-blown season of heaviness weighing down my soul—the
older I get, the less uncommon those certain seasons seem to be. But what I've
discovered is that, no matter what variety of season is currently on-stage, to
be able to identify a profound blessing going on for me right
then—whether it's big, small, lighthearted, or hefty—is never impossible.
Never. It's always possible to find something good. (And the
"something" often tends to be a "someone.") I think
this can be true for everyone.
Expressing to God, through
prayer, my gratitude on a daily basis is not without its consequences. Now,
depending on how you look at things, that sentence may appear as looming with
underlying scariness, but don't worry—it's actually very positive! I am, by no means, perfect in my
gratefulness. I constantly see in myself where I fall short. But I do notice
real benefits working within me that improve the crux of who I am, due to my
counting my blessings in front of the throne of my Maker, symbolized in such
scenes as kneeling at my bedside prior to sleep.
Thanking God in a prayer,
in which I am keeping myself totally mindful of every word I’m saying to Him,
causes me to really pause and reflect on that specific person, place, or thing
(noun, haha) for which I am giving thanks. My relatives, in all their familial
roles in relationship to me—from parents to cousins to pets, even. My coworkers. My friends. Every friend who did any
small thing to lift me up that day. I stop and think about them—sometimes after
my prayer, sometimes even in between phrases of the prayer itself. (Do I use em
dashes too much? Whatever.)
When I think about the precious
nouns that are human, who have bestowed and do
bestow their light upon me so selflessly (and most of the time they don’t even
know they are doing it), somehow I see them more in the light that God sees
them in. I see fewer things that make me and them different from one another,
and more ways in which we are the same. I think if my heart is in the right
place, when I find myself being thankful for them, for their goodness,
it helps me want to reciprocate with whatever good gifts I have to give.
Also when I pray,
especially at night, I make my brain do a recap of the past 24 hours (the past
week, the past recent general block of time, etc.) and turn it into a metal detector
of sorts so that it may pick up anything that could be considered a sweet
blessing from God, or what is sometimes referred to as a tender mercy. Anytime
I do this exercise in earnest, my mental/spiritual metal detector picks up a lot. Buckets.
So what is it that
gratitude does to me? To change me? I think it helps me to be kinder. I think
it enables me to be more aware of what’s good and what’s bright in the
darkening world. That’s not to say that it makes me blind to the dark; it doesn’t
encourage one to be ignorant. Rather, it helps a person realize that there are far,
far more places in which the Light of
the world—our Savior Jesus Christ—shines radiant than we may have ever previously
supposed, while perhaps simultaneously helping our hearts soften and become
more open so that the Spirit can aid us in spotting the traps ‘round which the adversary
lurks. I think regular practice of praising God for all He does for us (“does,”
for He is living) helps us keep our faith and hope alive in these final days
before the Savior comes again. Helps us to have hope in the Savior. Hope in Christ.
Gratitude. More than just a
“thank you.” So much more.
