Day 276, October 7

For an individual of faith, gratitude is the glad acknowlegment and recognition of the Lord's generosity in all things.  Did you know that the word thanks and its various derivations (thankfulness, thanksgiving, thankful) appear over one hundred and fifty times in the Old and New Testaments?  And that  the imperative to give thanks appears thirty-three times?

Do you think the Lord was trying to tell us something with His repetition?  Sometimes I wonder why the Lord tells us the same things over and over.  And then I get it--He repeats Himself because we haven't obeyed the last thousand and sixty-six times.  (I made up that number, but it sounds good.) 

The parable of the ten lepers reminds us of the Lord's emphasis on giving thanks.  Only one man thought to thank Christ for His healing powers; the other nine went on their way, healthy now in body but sick in spirit because of their lack of gratitude.

This I know for sure:  whatever we do, whatever we give, will never begin to thank the Lord for His goodness.

 

Day 275, October 6

It has been only in the last year that I have realized the truly infinite power of the Atonement.  I had known that Christ's Atonement covered our sins.  How had I not known, however, that it also encompassed our tears, our cries, our heartaches?  I can only plead immaturity and a stunning lack of wisdom.

Christ knows and feels every tear we shed, every cry of despair we utter, every piercing of our hearts.  He also sheds tears, also cries in despair, also knows heartache on our behalf.  There is nothing too small ... or too large ... for Christ to feel. 

This I know for sure:  when we feel alone, when we feel so beaten down that we fear we will never get up again, when we cry out in heart-wrenching pain, Christ is there. 

Day 274, October 5

"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."--G/K. Chesterton

I have always been intrigued by the idea that gratitude begets happiness.  Conversely, ingratitude begets unhappiness.  Yet we spend much of our lives being passively, if not agressively, ungrateful.

Let me share with you a story that happened some years ago.  It's not one of which I am particularly proud, but it serves as a good example of ingratitude.  I had been writing for several years with more than my share of rejections.  An editor who had bought one book from me rejected every manuscript I had sent her following that one precious sale.  In a writers' magazine, I found a notice that she had left the publishing house and that a new editor had taken her place.

"Listen to this," I told my husband and read the notice to him.  "This is my chance to start over with a new editor."

I submitted a query to the new editor, who requested to see the full manuscript.  Within a few weeks, I had a sale.  (This was particularly significant in that the previous editor had rejected the book.)  I was ecstatic.  "We need to celebrate," I told my husband.

"Maybe you should first thank Heavenly Father for allowing you to see that notice in the magazine," he ponted out.

"Hey," I said  (and this is where my cheeks burn with shame).  "I did the work.  I deserve the credit."

Nearly twenty years later, I can still recall that conversation.  How dare I take credit ... for anything?  Whatever blessings I have, whatever blessings I might have, are all courtesy of the Father.

This I know for sure:  gratitude is the mark of a civilized and happy person. 

Day 273, October 4

To be content with little is difficult; to be content with much, impossible.

Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach

Does this sound counter-intuitive to you?  I had to read it a couple of times to understand the wisdom in the words.  Around the third reading, I got it. 

What happens when we have everything we ever wanted?  Are we more content, more satisfied with our lives, ourselves?  If you can answer "yes" to this question, congratulations.  You have it all together.  I find that when I find I have eveyrthing I want, I am discontent, for the striving, the trying, the struggling is absent.

Something else happens, as well.  When we have everything, or close to it, we start finding fault with those possessions.  They begin to look shabby; they aren't as good as what a friend has; they aren't up-to-date.  Or, we allow those possessions  to control us.  We think, "Oh, I can't sit on my new sofa" or "I can't use that new purse.  What if I get it dirty?"

Over the years, my family has lived on very little.  And sometimes we have lived on much more.  I noticed something when I compared those times:  we weren't any happier during the "fat" times than we were during the "lean" times.  I know:  that isn't  particularly startling and certainly not original with me.  But it caused me to realie that possessions don't define who we are.  What we believe in, what we value, whom we love--they define us.

This I know for sure:  being content is found in our hearts, not in our stuff.

Day 272, October 3

 

I have always questioned the parable of the lost sheep.  Why was the shepherd (Christ) so concerned about one lost sheep when He had ninety-nine others to tend?  Was it not more important to guide and protect those sheep than to leave them to find the one that had gone missing?

Then my cousin sent me poem, and I understood, as I should have before, the significance of that lost sheep, especially if that sheep were a mother with lambs to care for.  For when a woman is lost, she may take her babies with her. 

THE ECHO

By C.C. Miller

’Twas a sheep not a lamb

That strayed away in the parable Jesus told,

A  grown-up sheep that strayed away

From the ninety and nine in the fold.

And why for the sheep should we seek

And earnestly hope and pray?

Because there is danger when sheep go wrong:

They lead the lambs astray.

Lambs will follow the sheep, you know,

Wherever the sheep may stray.

When sheep go wrong,

It won’t take long till the lambs are as wrong as they.

 

And so with the sheep we earnestly plead

For the sake of the lambs today,

For when the sheep are lost

What a terrible cost

The lambs will have to pay.

 

This I know for sure:  a lost sheep can mean a lost generation.

Day 271, October 2

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one.

George R.R. Martin   (Author of The Game of Thrones)

I can't help myself.  When I run across a good quote about books and reading, I have to share it.  It's an obsession with me (a good one, I hope).

I cannot remember a time when I wasn't reading.  As a young child, when I was supposed to practice the piano (an hour a day, no less), I would prop a Nancy Drew book on the piano and read it while playing a song, over and over, which  I had memorized.  I don't know if my mother knew or not.  If so, she never said anything.

Nancy and I solved crimes and got heart palpitations over Ned Nickerson. We laughed with our good friends Bess and George.  We literally grew up together.  I was Jo in Little Women.  If you remember, Jo was the writer.  In The Scarlet Pimpernel, I was Sir Percy, rescuing French aristocrats from Madame Guillotine. 

Today, I am still reading.   I am a schoolmarm in the American West, teaching in a one room school.   I am a special ops soldier in the Middle East, saving lives and squashing terrorism.  I am a thousand people living a "thousand lives," all through reading.

This I know for sure:  books hold treasures far beyond those of Aladdin's cave.

Day 270, October 1

It is no secret that Mormons spend much time in scripture reading, in attending meetings, in any number of Gospel pursuits.  However, those pursuits are empty if they have no substance behind them.  More than a century and a half ago, a group of handcart pioneers were caught in a terrible blizzard as they crossed the plains.  Hunger, severe weather, and disease had already claimed many lives.

President Brigham Young learned of their plight.  He stood in General Conference and told the members of their brothers' and sisters' dire circumstances and said, "Your faith will not save you if you do not help those in need."

The prophet's call to action did not go unheeded.  The brethren prepared to leave with oxen and wagons.  The sisters did not remain idle.  Though they had little, they stripped off petticoats and underskirts, they raided meager cupboards of foodstuffs, they ripped blankets from beds, all to send to the little band of Saints.

This I know for sure:  faith and action work together, for neither can survive alone.