Finding The Thankful

 Waking up, I stare at the plaque in my room and wonder if it's actually possible: "Give thanks today and everyday," it reads. 

For some time now, it has seemed hard for thanks to pour out of my lips. Deep down, I've wanted to be one of those people who blessed God in the face of trials and I've done my best to pray for a grateful heart in the midst of sometimes inexplainable sorrow. But I know also that instead of praise, many times I've only been able to breathe complaint, discouragement, and hopelessness. Have found my heart fixed on all the things that steal joy. 

Many times in recent months, I've asked God how one can find gratitude when so much appears to be wrong. It's difficult to give thanks today and everyday when that day brings news that threatens to rip your soul right in half. It's challenging to be grateful when everything around you seems to cry out that God is absent. It's hard to say "yes" to the Almighty when what is given only shows you what you now lack. 

As I've done often this year, I head for the heights to escape the depths. I run for the mountains in hopes of getting above the problems for awhile so I rediscover my hope. Find my strength again. Tap into the soul-brave. Somehow, when miles stretch before the eyes of untouched, created wonder, it's hard not to want to worship.

 Cue up the songs and hit the road. As the car winds on a dirt road in the wilderness,  the heart slows and the spirit soars. I'm reminded of the truths that cause the hurting one to look up. Just as did the Jews when their camp was overrun by snakes, their healing came when they gazed up. And perhaps my healing comes when I, too, turn my eyes on Him and look into His loving face. 

The valley is dotted with spots of color as happy wild blueberry pickers glean harvest among mountain grandeur. I hit the trail and set off for glorious vistas ahead. A picnic among the expansive scenery fortifies me for the afternoon ahead. I climb, one slow step at a time. Somehow, I feel this is indicative of my life for sometime now...trusting in a view I'll one day behold but only seeing paths lead to endless twists and turns with  no end in sight. 

Faith is trusting a future glory when all you can see is unknowns. It's believing you'll someday understand when it all feels so confusing, so hard. So hidden. 

Heart beating hard, I push myself to keep climbing. Keep telling myself that the perspective at the top is worth the pain to get there. It's a truth I've struggled to believe many times. Sometimes you have to preach to your heart even when you don't feel it's true. 

Later, I reach the valley view and suddenly, thanks seems slightly easier. Thanks for a God who sees even when He appears to be distant. Thanks for a faithful One to turn to when others fail you. Thanks for grace to do the difficult things when taking the easier way out might be the more logical option. Songs that filled the car on the drive up now sink into my heart and mind. Make the worship flow out of me and force me to see something beyond my suffering. 

I decide to climb even higher. Chase more mountains. I'm driven by the prospect of a photo of the greatest mountain of them all - Denali. Sitting clear in a blue sky on the way up, I'm willing to endure some struggle to catch a glimpse. Sometime afterward, legs screaming and lungs heaving, I cross the ridge and am overtaken by the most incredible 360 view that steals my soul heavenward. But that one thing I wanted to see? It's covered in clouds and sometimes the dreams we run to or the hopes we have or the God we think we'll find are hidden too and answers aren't so obvious and discouragement can make us doubt if the journey up was worth it. 

Look around, I tell myself. Beauty still remains. And maybe that's the key: you don't always see what you expect you will but Love finds you in a way that surprises. And perhaps thankfulness is learning how to notice the ways He's present even when it looks different than what you thought. 

Knees shaking on the way down, I think of how all life-stories take their toll. And it's all about how we finish and how we arrive at the end. Close to the car, I hear a cheer go up at the ski chalet as a happy couple ties the knot in these difficult days and I think I know what it means to see Grace in all this. There is always enough God so that one can still celebrate even when their heart aches. Full-grace still remains. 

On the drive home, music still flooding my heart with what is most true, that elusive Denali once again appears. At first, I laugh at its playing games with me. Of course it would reappear after I descended from peak-views but then I realize that perhaps this is just another reminder that some things mean more when seen in the valley. That sometimes the path to giving thanks on any given day is finding Him right where you are, even when you discover Him more in the low places than in the high ones.