The Joy of Thanksgiving

No feeling compares to the richness of gratitude. A grateful person is both happy and humble. When one is grateful to God or another person for a gift, obviously no patting on the back or boasting is in order. No ego! Rather, we find ourselves happy, even relieved, when thanking someone for a good turn done to us.

Why can one even be relieved when experiencing gratitude? Simple—because we know that things could have been otherwise. Thus, gratitude, far from being a merely idealistic notion, is rooted deeply in earthy reality.

The pilgrims who made it to Plymouth Rock safely had seen many of their family members and friends perish in the journey; they were well-acquainted with death and knew full well that they could easily be next. After all, what were their odds—a terribly long sea voyage, exposure to disease? And if they made it to the New World at all, how would they make it through their first winter?

The first Thanksgiving was truly that—people giving thanks to God for their very survival. The Native Americans who helped them stave off starvation must have seemed like heaven-sent angels in those early times in America.

People who are familiar with tragedy, hardship, or death are oftentimes surprisingly joyful and grateful people. They live each day as if it were their last. Perhaps they had a serious brush with the Grim Reaper and know how very real he is. Such individuals are realists, having encountered an aspect of life the rest of us have been spared—so far.

The Native Americans were well-versed in the song of death. Life in the wilderness or on the prairie was difficult, and the diseases the whites brought over with them hit hard. Yet throughout their tradition is a keen sense of thankfulness for the blessings that remained, as well as prayers for a good harvest, a successful hunt, or victory in battle.

So when they interpreted a successful growing or hunting season as a blessing from the Great Spirit, they reverently gave thanks. They knew the alternative story all too well—a harsh winter, losing a battle, or a fruitless hunt. Because they had experienced real suffering, they could experience real joy in what today we sometimes take utterly for granted. Basic sustenance, shelter, and the comfort of one’s family and friends may be simple gifts, but they are among the most vital to any definition of human life.

The old Christian hymn tells us to count our blessings, every one. Some might think that this is just a way for the church to get people to avoid complaining about their lives or even to ignore their very real problems. We rightfully call into question those who promote a saccharine view of life with no sensitivity to the very real pain of others’ experiences.

Nevertheless, there is much to be said for counting one’s blessings, because blessings are a significant part of our experience here on earth as well. In short, “reality checks” need not only be reminders of the sadness, harshness, or unfairness of life. Reality is, of course, a mixture of the good and the bad in life—sorrow and joy, darkness and light.

If we focus on one to the total exclusion of the other, we are projecting onto the world either a blithely sunny attitude that is so insecure that it can’t face evil, or we succumb to a cynical negativism that refuses to allow in the occasional ray of sunshine.

Counting our blessings is, therefore, a way to correct the imbalance that so many of us subscribe to every day of the year. Aside from legitimate tragedies, just because something annoying or even unfortunate befalls us now, in time shouldn’t we look at that misfortune in the full context of our lives? We focus on the new misfortune because of its newness. As such, it can have the effect of taking away much of our attention and energy.

But unless we take a moment to see things in perspective, we will be doing ourselves, and those around us, an inestimable wrong—namely, to develop a warped view of reality.

Whenever life throws you a curve ball, just remember all those times when it went easy on you, too. Without the curves, you wouldn’t appreciate the pitches that enabled you to hit one out of the park. Without rain, we might not know to pack our bags hurriedly and head for the beach on a sunny day. Without sickness, what would good health really mean to us?

The bad things in life really do help us to appreciate better the good things. So we should not merely count our blessings. We should be thankful for the pratfalls we’ve experienced on life’s dance floor. Without them, we could never have learned how to waltz.

And in those most difficult of times when the dance music actually stops and the silence is out of your control, brace yourself and hold on to the floor. Life’s band members are just taking a break to see if you are truly appreciative of their music. Just stay out there on the dance floor for the next song. Christianity, never shy to embrace hope, tells us that just holding on is a virtue. That next song will be played for you. It will come.

Stephen Reed, a Centurion in the 2008 class, is a former talk radio host and serves as grants and foundations specialist for PFM.