​John Bucchino is a talented composer and lyricist whose songs I stumbled on several years ago. My favorite tune of his is one called “Grateful.” “I’ve got a heart that can hold love,” it says, “I’ve got a mind that can think.” It’s impossible to stay depressed, writes Bucchino, when he remembers how he’s blessed. 

I get it. I am truly blessed and duly grateful, too. I’m grateful for any day of late that feels more like fall than summer. And for the birds outside my window that I love listening to most mornings. Grateful for the work that is waiting for me each day: good work that I enjoy; work that consistently puts gas in the car and groceries in the pantry and gives my heart and mind a workout in the process. Grateful for the friends whose questions keep me honest and whose prayers keep me close. For a husband and little boys that I adore. For parents who believed in me no matter what goofy thing I did. For big stuff like life and health and small stuff like raspberries available in spring and glory of autumn in October and November. For things hoped for and things unexpected. 

Mostly, though, I’m grateful that my heart knows whom to thank for all the goodness that is mine. Sure, the list of things is gratifying, but it’s the Giver who really makes my heart sing. Any gift divorced from its giver is a lifeless thing; I’m grateful God “leaves the tags on” for me so I can see where all the best stuff comes from.

God has enabled me to see with what I'm calling his gratefulness glasses. It doesn't come easily for me. My mother only asked me to count my blessings once a year at thanksgiving so it wasn't a habit for me. I had to meet people who I thought were worse off but had great perspective.

I recently talked to a godly young man named Brian who suffered severe burns in an industrial accident more than a decade ago. He lost 90 percent of the skin on his body, lost his eyesight, and had two arms and a leg amputated. As I listened to him, I was astonished at his utter lack of self-pity; on the contrary, he expressed great thanks for how God used the injury to cement his faith. He has become a tower of strength, and as he described his relationship with his wife, I marveled at the obvious intimacy of their relationship on all levels, even in the face of such a debilitating injury. 

I compared his Christlike, thankful spirit with my own whining when I suffered a common foot injury this past spring and had to take a few weeks off —and I just sighed. In a fallen world we can develop a radically unrealistic perspective. One severely disabled man said, “When you’re a quadriplegic, you look at a paraplegic and think, ‘Man, they’ve got it made!’ “ When we feel sorry for ourselves, we work against finding positive solutions. Brian can’t see his wife, and he’ll never be able to hug her, but he can talk to her, pray with her and for her, and comfort her with wise words of love, care, and concern. Through the Internet, he has even discovered ways to buy her presents without her knowing about it ahead of time. 

Sometimes, in God’s providence, certain pleasures may be closed to us, as they have been to Brian. God says, in effect, “This is not for you, at least not now.” We have to trust him to provide alternate pleasures —perhaps of an entirely different sort —that will sustain us in our trials.

The bottom line is without gratitude we are wallowing in our selfishness. With gratitude we can see with our Godly glasses on.

Feelings of entitlement feed anger; feelings of thankfulness swell our souls and can make us tear up with overflowing gratitude.

​Thanking God helps us recognize what pleasures we have while at the same time increasing our pleasure. Only when we become grateful for what we do have, or what we might work toward, do we find true joy. 

When we look at life through these Godly glasses, we become lost in wonder and convinced of God’s astounding generosity, marvelous mercy, and gigantic grace. Sin causes us to look at life through the lens of entitlement —that we deserve salvation without repentance, wealth without work, accolades without self-denial, health without personal discipline, pleasure without sacrifice. Biblical truth reminds us that, in reality, we deserve hell. 

Every small laugh, each tiny expression of joy, a simple meal —indeed, every single moment lived outside of the agony of hell —truly is an undeserved gift. When we add the assurance that the completed work of Christ guards our eternal destiny, our lives should radiate not merely joy but wonder and astonishment at how good God truly is. 

What are you grateful for—and for whom? What satisfies your soul and makes your heart sing? Whose presence blesses you like crazy? What beauties threaten to take your breath away? You really should thank Someone, don’t you think? 

Every generous act and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights; with Him there is no variation or shadow cast by turning. By His own choice, He gave us a new birth by the message of truth so that we would be the firstfruits of His creatures. JAMES 1:17-18 HCSB

"I don't have _______."  "You are wasting my _______."  "I'm just killing ____."  "How do you fill your ________?"  Spending, keeping, marking, making... What is your sense of time?  

First and foremost, time is a gift.  Time is a creation of God, right after the second creation of God — light, which marks time.  In the very first chapter of Genesis, God separates light and darkness, calls one day and one night, and there was evening and morning — the beginning of time, which is declared good(Genesis 1:1-5).  Time is one of creation’s “goods”.  As Thomas Merton explains: “Time for the Christian is then the sphere of his spontaneity, a sacramental gift in which he can allow his freedom to deploy itself in joy.”

Do we receive  time as a good gift from God, the matrix  in which we can allow freedom to “deploy itself in joy”? Do we experience time as one of the many aspects of creation that we are to enjoy and to steward, or do we experience time as a taskmaster? Do we manage time, or does time manage us?

From God’s point of view there is lots of time, an eternity of it.  It follows that there will be plenty of time for what God intends to accomplish.  Personally, I have come to believe that God will give me the time to accomplish what is God’s will for me, and that is time “enough” for me.

The second reflection is that the Bible pushes us to understand time as the matrix of the sacred.  The God of Israel, the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, was not a God of place.  Unlike the deities of other Ancient Near Eastern peoples, gods associated with temples, sacred springs, or groves of trees, the God of Israel was the God of events, of happenings in time.  The fact that the Divinity is manifested in history means that time is holy.  “The higher goal of spiritual living is not amass a wealth of information, but to face sacred moments,” Abraham Heschel writes.  “Spiritual life begins to decay when we fail to sense the grandeur of what is eternal in time.”

Living spiritually demands that we be “present tense” people.  The enormity of the concept of ‘God now” bears serious reflection for people who think their relationship with God is important.  Like Heschel, Paul Tillich believes: “There is no other way of judging time that to see it in the light of the eternal.” What is important about time, in short, is its “God content”.

The third aspect of time I want to discuss is that time is experienced differently in different situations.                   

According to John Donahue, “The quality of our experience always determines the actual rhythm of time.  When you are in pain, every moment slows down until it resembles a week.  When you are happy and really enjoying your life, time flies.”  Time spent with loved ones flies by.  Time spent on a deathbed drags almost unbearably for the loved ones gathered around it.  Three hours in the hospital waiting room during critical surgery is in “real time” much longer than the three hours spent on one’s favorite pastime.

The final reflection or aspect of time to ponder here is the fact that the only time we really have is the present moment, now. 

Now is a gift of God; that is why it is called the present.  The old cliché is true: the past is gone; the future is yet to be. 

If we don’t find God in this present moment, we are unlikely to encounter the Divine at all.  Paul deeply understood this truth and wrote to the Corinthians, “See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!” (2 Corinthians 6:2)

Time is more than chronology.  Time is opportunity.  The Hebrew prophets thought of history as a continuum of times, each filled with its content by God, and, therefore, each demanding a response from people.  The writers of the New Testament clearly thought of themselves as writing in the time of history.  And so we Christians have a particular reason to understand that time is a function of divine disclosure.  It is the arena of salvation.  It is “the means by which God makes use in order to reveal his gracious working.”  Time is valuable because God has entered time and brought eternity into it. 

From Ephesians, we must “make the most of the time” (5:16). What that will mean for each one of us is at the heart of the mystery of our individual and God-given vocation. 

I have been counting gifts for over two years now.  I started this on Christmas day two years ago after reading Ann Voskamp's '1000 Gifts'.  With my whole heart, I endorse both reading her book and counting your own gifts over the next year.  Let's celebrate life and all of its beauty together.

Highlights from this month's list of gifts have been very special.  I saw some birds sitting on a snow covered tree singing praises (similar to the picture above).  My sons smiling and laughing are always good to boost my spirit.  My husband's thoughtfulness of a hot water bottle on my aching back.  Playful 'talks' with the baby.  Good meals with family and friends.  

Have you noticed that these things are not big?  These gifts are small things that warmed my heart, caught my attention, and let me notice the beauty in the everyday things.  What richness!

This is not to say that life is always good.  Sometimes I am amazed and paralyzed by my inadequacies, weaknesses, and attitude.  But isn't this the point?  When I can only see myself, I need to look around me to see goodness, light, love, and God.

Christmas day is a yearly reminder that God is with us.  He was born in a barn filled with mud, muck, hay, pigs, and other animals.  He reaches down into our messy, mud-filled lives and does His best to get our attention.  

The beauty of this that I don't fully grasp is that He has chosen me.  Me?  My shame and inadequacies as a mother, wife, teacher, lover, friend, writer, cook, and occasionally, an artist, He knows me very well.  He changes me.  As I count gifts, as I become more and more grateful for life around me.  He transforms me.  He is filling me with love, light, patience, and grace.  He is with me.

Isn't that the point of Christmas? God is with us.

He is with me as I count gifts, struggle with students, interact with my kids, talk to my husband, bake muffins, take walks, and live life!  He is with me.  Just. Waiting. For.  Me.  To.  Notice. Him.  He is here.

He is.

It's interesting how people come and go through our lives, but manage to become a part of who we are.  Anne Shirley referred to Diana Berry in Anne of Green Gables as her bosom friend, a soul mate for life.  Of course, it's a story, but even in that story Anne and Diana grow apart as they married, had children, and raised their families.  It is something that happens to all of us.

Our family recently said goodbye to Max, my cousin, who after a full year of working at an English institute for children, went back home.  The kids and I miss him already.  He was here for many a weekend and almost every long weekend on the Korean calendar.  It was a blessing to have him here.  I cooked a lot.  Boy, could he ever eat! The boys enjoyed the silly games he played, his knowledge or computer games, his willingness to go for walks, and his love of anything fun.  Somewhere along the line, he became 'Uncle Max'. He got a special place at the end of the dining room table, and we learned to pull out his favorite blankets before he arrived. A have a wonderful mosaic of pictures in my mind of his time here.  He became someone who is more than a cousin.  He became family.

May the beauty of this video inspire you!