Oh Gratitude, What Have You Done?

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.