Force-Fed Gratitude

Open your mouth and say "Ahhh." It's almost time to taste the goodness of life in big, savory thankful bites. The yearly gathering with family and friends to celebrate Thanksgiving is finally here and I can already smell the turkey! It gets busy with all the planning and preparation for this one momentous day. There's projects to complete, schedules to coordinate and endless shopping trips to the grocery store for that one last thing! But by the time Thanksgiving is here, we can finally sit down and enjoy the faces and heaps of side dishes around the dining table.

Every Thanksgiving my family drives across ginger-colored hillsides and up to the pines until we finally arrive at my mom's large mountain house. We are welcomed by glowing lamp light and hearty hugs given by those early-birds standing around waiting for the rest of us to show up.  Steaming gravy is being stirred at the stove-top, white clumps of potatoes are whirring in a noisy electric mixer, and bottles of bubbly cider are being popped open and drizzled into clear plastic cups. The kitchen has a true aroma of Thanksgiving. Everyone seems to be in there helping or getting in the way of another platter being set out.


The grandkids circle throughout the house snatching potato chips or pickles in their path. They are chased quietly by their cousins after being told not to, but the giggles escape from their clenched grins and their half moon eyes spill with the joy of being together at Grandma's. "Grandma's and Grandpa's," my dad used to say, good-naturedly with a smile. After all, he lived there too and had bought the land, paid the building costs, property taxes, mortgage, and more turkeys than anyone could remember.

"Of course, it's your house too," we would laugh back, never wanting him to feel slighted in any way or overshadowed by the homeyness that my mom had created. We knew the special importance he played in each and every one of our lives. Now, this is the second Thanksgiving that Grandpa won't be there, last year being so bittersweet that we could hardly taste the food.Yet, somehow we still did, as that's what he would have wanted us to do. It was hardest for mom and it will likely still be hard this year. She says the pain doesn't go away. But despite loss, tragedy and hardships, we always have so much to be thankful for.

From my earliest Thanksgiving memory, my mom insisted we all hold hands before the meal. The squished circle of siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends wends itself around the stove top, across the kitchen and all the way into the living room. Everyone must say what they're thankful for. The line is so meandering that people need to angle their heads around each other to see who is speaking, for instance the quiet little niece who talks into her daddy's shirt. We all take our turns and listen to the words spoken while the food loses steam and our hearts warm with blessings.

The Thanksgiving grace seems to go on forever. All because of gratitude. If you can't think of something to be thankful for by the time it's your turn, you have only to look up, raise the hands you're holding, and say, "For all of you." That's what it comes down to. And everyone nods.

It's easy to be thankful for the ones you love. For the warm house, plentiful table, and the many hands that prepared the enormous meal. For our jobs, our schooling, our faith, our good health, our prosperity, and the freedom to live in the land we love. Tasting the flavors of goodness in our lives comes easy when being fed bite by delicious bite on Thanksgiving. But what about the day afterward or the rest of the year? Will we keep adding to the gratitude list each day, or will we rush out the door in the morning, trying to beat traffic and forget to stop and give thanks? What about the difficult days in our lives when we want to be rid of our problems rather than be grateful for them? As I wait for my turn to come around the room, I think about what I will say.

This year gratitude took on a different meaning for me. Without warning, my life became so painfully difficult that I could hardly face each hour, let alone each day. My back had given me trouble before but never like this. The excruciating pain I experienced nearly knocked me off my feet for months. Getting the proper referrals for therapies and doctor appointments took agonizingly long as my patience wore thin. My daily thanksgiving prayer to God soon became my noisy gonging-begging for my pain to go away. Each day was drenched in the bitter toxicity of pain.

Seeking God's help, however, had opened a window for a fresh thought to enter in. A reminder of something I had read from Blessed Mother Theresa earlier this year. It was about offering up one's sufferings. She had taught how our sacrifices can be gifts when we lovingly give them back to the Father. I had grown up with a strong faith and so rather than crying through my pain, I began attempting to thank God each day for it, and to accept it as a blessing in my life. Something I could give back to God.

This was not easy for me to do, in fact sometimes it felt ludicrous. In my agony, I would thank Him for my pain in one breath, then beg Him to take it away in the next. Over several weeks, however, the practice of doing this became a lifeline to me. I felt like a baby bird crying to be fed, but I kept thanking my Creator, hoping my heart would believe the words I was saying. I force-fed myself this gratitude, and slowly I began feeling filled with a new type of satisfaction.

I pictured my pain as my cross that I was carrying for some special purpose known only by God. This daily (sometimes hourly) prayer of thanksgiving turned my difficult suffering into something of a unique treasure. During those months I felt a tremendous outpouring of His love and care for me, and I was given the joy of knowing my pain was being used for a higher purpose, perhaps to bless someone else who was suffering worse than I. Most assuredly, I learned to have more compassion for others in the process. I realized then with pure humility, that it was a privilege to be given this task of suffering! Even if it was nearly unbearable at times. I never would give this time in my life back or the lessons I learned. They are gifts to me, like succulent desserts that we save till the end of the meal.

Learning to swallow this type of gratitude was like learning to survive in a body not my own. I was living a busy, active life that had abruptly turned a sharp corner into a dark alley. But God's light was in that darkness, just as it is in the big mountain house filled with my family's love on Thanksgiving day.

Tasting gratitude with each silky bite, is something we need to do well after the holidays have come and gone, and regular life is back in full swing. If we become so busy that we must wait to taste gratitude before only one meal a year, then somehow during the feast we have forgotten to pick up the right fork. Living each day with a sense of gratitude and thanking God daily for our many blessings, good and bad, can help shape our attitudes for the unexpected and unwelcome things we may encounter in the years to come. Then we will already be in the habit of thanking Him and will be able to taste and see the goodness of the fruits that come through hardships, whether loss of health, jobs, or loved ones.

This Thanksgiving there is much to be thankful for! Even the people in my life whom I know are struggling more than I am, show the love and gratitude in their eyes as they press into the person next to them and thank God for their blessings. And I can't wait for my turn to come. My little mom in her sturdy frame clings tightly to her family and her memories, as she squints her eyes shut and speaks directly to God with the longest list of all. And when she finally nods her head in closing, the hungry crowd gives a rousing, "Amen!" Let's eat!