I am grateful for this excerpt from the book I am reading, “You’ll Get Through This” by Max Lucado. The chapter is titled, “a splash of gratitude with that attitude, please”:

      I was flying home from the Midwest when a snowstorm delayed my arrival in Dallas. I raced to the gate in hopes of catching the final flight of the night in San Antonio. The airport was in a state of contained turmoil, everyone dashing to a gate. The airlines had already loaded extra passengers on my plane. With all the charm I could muster, I asked the attendant, “Are any seats left?”

She looked at her computer screen. “No,” she replied, “I’m afraid…”

I just knew how she was going to finish the sentence: “I’m afraid you’ll have to spend the night here.” “I’m afraid you’ll need to find a hotel.” “I’m afraid you’ll have to catch the 6:00 a.m. flight to San Antonio.”

But she said none of these. Instead, she looked up and smiled. “I’m afraid there are no more seats in coach. We are going to have to bump you up to first class. Do you mind if we do that?”

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” So I boarded the plane and nestled down in the wide seat with the extra legroom.

Color me thankful.

Not every passenger was as appreciative as I was. A fellow across the aisle from me was angry because he had only one pillow. With the attendants scrambling to lock doors and prepare for the delayed departure, he was complaining about insufficient service. “I paid extra to fly first class. I am accustomed to better attention. I want another pillow!”

On the other side of the aisle, yours truly smiled like a guy who had won the lottery without buying a ticket. One passenger grumbled; the other was grateful. The difference? The crank paid his way into first class. My seat was a gift.

If you feel the world owes you something, brace yourself for a life of sour hours. You’ll never get reimbursed. The sky will never be blue enough; the steak won’t be cooked enough; the universe won’t be good enough to deserve a human being like you. You’ll snap and snarl your way to an early grave. “A proud man is seldom a grateful man, for he never thinks that he gets as much as he deserves…”

…The grateful heart is like a magnet sweeping over the day, collecting reasons for gratitude. A zillion diamonds sparkle against the velvet of your sky every night. THANK YOU, GOD. A miracle of muscles enables your eyes to read these words and your brain to process them. THANK YOU, GOD. Your lungs inhale and exhale eleven thousand liters of air every day. Your heart will beat about three billion times in your lifetime. Your brain is a veritable electric generator of power. THANK YOU, GOD.

For the jam on our toast and the milk on our cereal. For the blanket that calms us and the joke that delights us and the warm sun that reminds us of God’s love. For the thousands of planes that did not crash today. For the men who didn’t cheat on their wives, and the wives who didn’t turn from their men, and the kids who, in spite of unspeakable pressure to dishonor their parents, decided not to do so. THANK YOU, LORD.

Gratitude gets us through the hard stuff. To reflect on your blessings is to rehearse God’s accomplishments. To rehearse God’s accomplishments is to discover His heart. To discover His heart is to discover not just good gifts but the Good Giver. Gratitude always leaves us looking at God and away from dread. It does to anxiety what the morning sun does to valley mist. It burns it up.

 

I am grateful for this book.

I am grateful for the fat little wren that is so enjoyable to watch on the patio.

I am grateful for another opportunity today to learn how to be a CASA.

I am grateful for early morning walks that allow me to get moving and arrive at work extra early.

I am grateful for my devotion this morning that reminded me of this hymn:

O To Be Like Thee

And I am grateful for these three words: I love you.