I’ve mentioned before that I’ve joined a Make Blogging Fun Again group. Let’s not talk about how good I’ve been at keeping up with it (aka horrible). With a heavy heart this morning, I opened my inbox. Some ‘fun’ and some creativity seemed like a good idea, so I opened up to where I had left off before – and found myself staring at a prompt on gratitude.
I immediately brightened up a bit. Gratefulness. It’s used to make anyone’s day better, a small trick countless boast of to improve both your mood and your life. An “attitude of gratitude” is a hip thing to have these days; it’s supposed to win you more friends and lower stress levels. And I have plenty to be grateful for. I’ve actually started practicing (what some call) the Prayer of Reflection – taking time each night to reflect on the day, where I saw God show up, what I was most thankful for. Then, from that place of gratitude, praying for the next day, for more of God’s presence, for more awareness. It’s a game changer, people.
All that to say, with the prompt of gratitude, I beyond ready. Let me tell you all about what I’ve been grateful for lately – I reflect on it every night! Let me tell you about the wedding I went to this weekend, the faces I was reunited with. Let me tell you about what God has been growing in me lately, where I’ve seen such unexpected providence. Let me tell you about all the little things I’ve become extra thankful for in my life. Let me write you the most beautiful, reflective, eloquent blog on gratitude.
And then, I stopped, because I remembered why my heart was so heavy 5 minutes prior, why I had escaped the land of newsfeeds and news stories and retreated to my inbox.
I was going to write a status. (Isn’t it funny, how that’s our idea of doing something? I’m gonna go on Facebook and write a status!) I was going to write about the anger, the shouting, the hate filling up my newsfeed. Bombs in New York, bombs in New Jersey. Police shooting in Tulsa, police shooting in Charlotte. It’s been a terrifying week in America, and it’s only Wednesday. And what are we doing? Mourning? Grieving? Rallying together? No, we’re yelling. Read More