I realize I am not, by nature, a very thankful person. I mope too much. Whine too much. My head gets so stuck in the ground or lost in the clouds that I stop noticing the moments of grace all around me.
For example, I’ve been blessed with amazing coworkers. One woman, in particular (I will call her Barbara). She often shares her lunch with me, cuts out the daily Jumble puzzle in the newspaper for me and always sews my shirts when they get holes in them (which happens more than it should; I need to rethink my decision to shop at Banana Republic so much).
Once, a favorite sweater of mine ripped—a large tear in the front. Barbara tried to patch it, but the hole was too big. She took it to the cleaners to have sewn. The next week, she said, “They couldn’t fix it, either. The hole was too pulled-apart. Do you want me to put a temporary fix on it?” I thanked her and gave her a big hug. She had taken my sweater to be sewn, offering to spend her own money. That’s wonderful kindness and impossible to overlook.
Today, I woke with a (somewhat rare) spirit of thankfulness. Driving to work, I thanked God for the good things in my life: a job, a great church home and the amazing people I’ve known—my family, friends and coworkers. I remembered Barbara. She went into the hospital yesterday for surgery.
I’ve spent the morning praying for her. I called the hospital but haven’t been able to reach her yet. I will keep praying. In the meantime, I will keep giving thanks for those good things (and even some of the difficult ones) in my life. It’s a good Friday.