Gratitude

I think I have finally come to realize, truly realize, what gratitude actually is.  I think it has little to do with words such as, thank you and those pleasantries we exchange, and more to do with inner recognition.  Let me explain.

 

As Sam and I were discussing Thanksgiving and trying to determine if we should spend money on a turkey and all the fixin's, we were reminded that the food storage we have been using fairly heavily these past months was dwindling faster than we realized.  Staples were disappearing and we were recognizing just how much money we have been saving by being able to pull 75-80% of our food from the pantry.  We didn't really come to a decision, just an acknowledgment that the cost of a turkey and all the trimmings could put a small dent in replenishing staple items to get the kids and I through this next bit of time.  We were also realizing that although there is a barracks room for Sam to stay in for a short while when he transfers to Milwaukee, there is no way for him to store or prepare food so he will be purchasing food from the galley which will be an added expense.  

 

Forward a couple of days to a busy Thursday.  I don't recall exactly what the morning was but we were out and about for the most part and came home with just enough time to grab lunch and head to the homeschool PE class held at a local gym.  As I opened the front door, I was greeted by boxes, full of food, that ran all the way from my front door to a couple of feet before the kitchen; flour, pudding mix, pasta, mac'n'cheese, fresh fruits and vegetables (it's been a while), granola, pancake and waffle mix, fruit drink mix, hot cocoa mix, canned soups and vegetable, canned meat, bread, buns, and more.  My mind could not even comprehend what was going on. Literally, I couldn't even form a thought or speak to the many little voices asking, "What is all this food doing here mom?"  My heart knew, my spirit knew, my soul was communicating perfectly.  

 

I walked slowly to the kitchen taking it all in as I went, it seemed the entryway was longer than usual.  I turned to see that there was a message and listened.  It was our dear Bishop requesting that Sam or I give him a call on his cell phone right away.  I dialed the number and he told me there was a little bird that told him we might not be able to have Thanksgiving dinner.  I don't know who that little bird was but if you are reading this little bird we call you the food angel around here. 

 

The Bishop was worried.  He saw the soymilk and thought that we would not want what he brought us.  He was nervous that I would be offended that he entered our home without permission.  It then dawned on me, "Oh he must have put something in the fridge then if he saw the soymilk."  Wow!  I am not sure if it's ever been that full; milk, butter, cheese, sour cream. Next was something like, "I gave you options on your turkey.  There is a whole bird and a smaller roast."  What are you kidding, options?  Seriously ... I opened the freezer.  Chicken, turkey, hamburger, breakfast sausage, ham, roasts, what am I forgetting?  

 

And lastly, "I hope what I did was okay?"  Are you kidding?  I wish he could have seen my smile.  I wish he could have heard my spirit leaping with joy, maybe he did, hopefully he did.  Of course I tried with words to reassure him that everything was fine, even great.  I hope it worked.  Even as I write this it all comes flooding back and I feel with every part of me that moment.  I wish he could see my little ones gobble up the goods.  I hope I will always hold this gratitude so close as it is right now.  

 

Sure the things he brought aren't what we have bought in the past.  Sure the kids are going to be on a sugar high for the next while.  Sure we don't need so much meat in our diets; sure, sure, sure.  So what?  We have food; manna from Heaven.  

 

I didn't even go to the, "Who broke in?  Was my door locked?  Did I forget to lock the door?" side of things.  It was straight to the powerful acknowledgment of spirit that all is well and will be well and divine things happen to divine people, and aren't we all?  I couldn't even put it away.  I just wanted to sit on the couch and look at it, relish in the gratitude of the moment.  I can't tell you, the words just aren't there.  

 

I remember a time when my mom was struggling to explain with words a conversation she had with the trees.  She was driving through the redwoods in CA and was overwhelmed with gratitude for the trees, in her expression of that, and in that moment, she was one with the trees and the trees with her.  There is a physical reaction that comes every time I experience again that moment of recognizing that exactly what we needed was plopped into our home.  It comes because my spirit cannot contain itself.  I just wanted to be with the food.  Perhaps because it was the physical manifestation of the spiritual need to remember.  I am not sure. What I do know is this; there was no list, and yet, sitting in my home, there was everything we needed. Miracles are everywhere, in people, in nature, and in food.  I am grateful that I saw and felt, and did not push the miracle away with pride and judgments.  So truly, deeply grateful.  

 

The kids talk about the Bishop's food all the time now.  They know the storehouse and what it is used for.  They also know that we pay fast offerings to help those in need.  Now they also know, first hand, what it is like to be the recipient of such an inspired and divine program.  I am grateful for that.   

So, in the Amy Lockhart book of life and dictionary, let it read that; Gratitude is an acknowledgment of spirit so great and so deep that it is undeniable and sometimes even physically draining, and words can never begin to share.