...i have Someone to thank...

“But sometimes it cometh to our mind that we have prayed long time, and yet we think to ourselves that we have not our asking.  But herefor should we not be in heaviness.  For I am sure, by our Lord’s signifying, that either we abide a better time, or more grace or a better gift.”  -Julian of Norwich


It was a hot, humid summer day. 
The woods were cool and green. 
The rhododendrons hung low over the creek
that bubbled over the rocks
near the cabin tucked into the trees
at the edge of the woods
that bordered my aunt and uncle’s farm
at the foot of the mountain. 

It felt like coming home.  I had spent many happy hours on this farm and in this cabin as a child, when my grandparents--my mother’s parents--lived here.  i was so grateful that my aunt and uncle hosted a get-together each summer for all the aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and great-grandchildren who were able to come.  Many changes have come to the farm since I tagged along with Grandpa out to the barn while he did the milking by hand.  But it is still the same place I have always loved.  And my aunt and uncle are always so kind and welcoming, a truly gracious host and hostess.

A stranger would probably smile to look around our group.  A majority of the ladies still wear plain dresses.  But not all.  Some of us wear jeans and look slightly out of place.  A few wear skirts and t-shirts; the skirts either out of personal conviction or out of respect for those in the cape dresses.  The majority of the ladies wear white head coverings...but not all.  I don’t.  My mom, a few aunts, a few cousins don’t either.  One aunt wears a short black veil over the back of her hair.  Most of the little girls wear pigtails...but not all.  Not my daughter, at least not most days.  The majority of the men wear plain dark work pants and button down shirts.  A few wear jeans--my hubby, my sons, my brother, some of the uncles.  A few t-shirts here and there.  Most of the men are clean shaven, but a few have beards.  And my hubby--one of a kind--in his jeans and usual everyday t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, tattoos in evidence.  A gathering of unmistakably plain Mennonite heritage and background.  But some of us who definitely broke out of the mold.  In spite of our differences, the welcome and the conversation includes all.  My hubby is welcomed too...among the general banter, the occasional joke is made about his aversion to shirt sleeves.  Nothing mean or spiteful in any way; all good-natured.  Some of us look like rather unlikely additions to the group, but we are all glad to be part of it.  Glad to call these people family, regardless of our differences. 

When all who are expected have gathered together and the food is ready, one of the uncles announces that we are ready to say the blessing on the meal.  And, in typical Mennonite fashion, we have a verse of song before the prayer.  Acapella, in four part harmony, as we have learned from childhood in church.  And something in my heart sighs in contentment as each part finds its pitch and the music begins.  It rings through the trees and echoes off the water.

The food is shared in leisurely fashion and the children head for the creek or other fun places to be found on the farm.  The usual quiet chatter and laughter of people who have not seen each other for some time and are glad to be together again--for some of us, it’s been days; for others, weeks; and others have months of catching up to do.  And then, one of the uncles (one of the ones who came in jeans and a beard) brings out his guitar.  Songbooks are handed around to those who want to sing, pages are flipped till someone finds a favorite number and announces which page it is on.  The key is found; each part finds their pitch.  And the woods ring with music.

And on this warm summer day, at this gathering that sticks in my mind as so very special in its sweet ordinariness, one of my cousins suggests #669 in the Zion’s Praises songbook.  “Someone to Thank,” words and music by Geraldine Koehn.  The melody is simple to follow; the harmony not too difficult.  I look around the faces of the group as we sing and, really, who can miss the joy and gratitude etched there; I see the cousin who suggested this song watching his lovely wife and beautiful baby nearby and see why this song struck a chord with him.  It resonates with me too, though I need to leave the singing briefly to attend to my youngest.  Has anyone ever been blessed so, as we are?  With such a heritage, and such wonderful spouses and children with whom we share the love and blessings of our God and the joy of life?

“There is Someone Who daily my needs doth supply,
These good things don’t just happen, there’s Someone on high.
‘Tis His mercy and grace that allows me to live;
He deserves all the thanks I can give.

(I have) Someone to thank
for ev’ry new day,
(I have) Someone to thank
for the gifts on life’s way;
(He’s the) One Who expects
and One Who accepts
All the thanks that I feel each day.”

Some time later, several months into my bout of severe depression, after I was able to read again with some intelligence, one of my dad’s cousins sent me a gift of the book One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.  I must admit, I struggled to get through it.  Mrs. Voskamp is a gifted writer, but her style of writing uses the parts of speech very loosely...sometimes adjectives are used as verbs, and the like.  For someone who struggled with bringing her mind into enough focus to read (that is something I still struggle with), to get through Mrs. Voskamp’s book, and on top of that, to comprehend what I had read, was an accomplishment indeed.  But I was not sorry I had made the effort.  In this story, she tells how her life was changed when she was challenged to make a list of 1000 gifts in her life.  Little things like a sunrise, a cup of hot coffee...anything.  An exercise in living in gratitude all the time.  One of the thoughts that my muddled brain pulled out of her writing was that one emotion overcomes another--we cannot be both thankful and fearful at the same time; we cannot be both thankful and discontented at the same time.  I mulled this idea over for some days, trying it out.  Did thankfulness really overcome the panic attacks?  I tried it.  It did not keep them away completely, but it became another weapon in my arsenal to fight these demons.  It did help--sometimes a little bit, sometimes tremendously.  And an attitude of thankfulness helped me to be more kind and personable to the people around me, even on the rough days.

And, sometimes when life gets heavy, or the unknowns loom large in front of us, do we get impatient with God?  Well, maybe no one else does, but I do.  I want my prayers answered the way I want them answered.  Right now, or preferably, yesterday.  I want the burden lifted from my shoulders, not more strength to carry it. 

But thankfulness and impatience do not seem to be able to co-exist.  When I looked around me for things to be thankful for, such as when i enjoyed a hot cup of coffee and beautiful sunrise with real gratitude instead of dwelling on the exhaustion or the jitters that awoke me from sleep, I was no longer impatient with God.  I could see His love wrapped around me and rest in the knowledge of His perfect timing, even in trials.  i found that the “peace that passeth all understanding” did guard my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus.

And i was again sure that i did “abide a better time, or more grace or a better gift,” by the endurance of this trial.  And i could be grateful in the midst of it.



(The link below is to Mrs. Voskamp's blog, with information on her books and other resources.)


Ann Voskamp's blog "a holy experience"