I’m a very cynical person sometimes.
You might already know that.
Sometimes it comes out worse than normal. It’s Thanksgiving week, right? So on Sunday, between verses of a hymn, the pastor’s son asked what people were thankful. Various voices shouted out the common responses you would expect from church.
“Thankful for the Bible.”
“Thankful for a godly wife and family.”
“Thankful for the freedom to worship.”
“Thankful for health.”
And I’m sitting in my pew wondering what the reaction will be if I call out that I’m thankful for dragon daggers.
Thankfulness is good, don’t get me wrong. Telling others what we’re thankful for is great. And we should be thankful for all the big things. Like salvation, the Bible, a family, health, chocolate. You know.
But sometimes, especially around this season, the idea of thankfulness can fall into some grand, preplanned mold everyone is used to and we forget to look through the small things that make up our lives and rediscover the beauty there.
I mean, when everyone else in the circle is saying they are thankful for the ability to read and the freedom to vote, one tends to fall in line instead of saying they are thankful for the deliciousness of chocolate chip cheesecake or for the ease they’re able to use a new knife sharpener.
It’s a very great pity.
Nearly everyone you talk to will be thankful for their freedoms if you ask about them. They’ll be thankful for salvation or friends or a home. But to a certain extent, that doesn’t touch their normal lives.
Yeah, I’m glad I have a house. I’m glad I’m warm when so many others have so much less. See, thankful. Now if only we could get some new paint or maybe different tiles…
Okay, so that’s partly just people learning the script and getting used to the stereotype of thanksgiving and forgetting the heart of it. But it’s also a matter of forgetting the small things.
Life is made up of small things.
I’m thankful I can get a mocha frappe from McDonald’s when I’m tired, even though I rarely do.
I’m thankful that dark chocolate with chili pepper is an actual thing.
I’m thankful for my bright, battered quilt that I rescued and sewed up, and which is so warm and pretty.
I’m thankful my car isn’t squeaking anymore, and that it’s so shiny and black and has so much room (I mean, I could fit two or three bodies in that trunk).
We’re all happy for the big things, or we pretend to be. We get it. So just let’s just assume our thankfulness on the big aspects of life, like having warm clothing or a car that drives, and start being thankful for specific things, like the smooth warmness of the seats or the colors of a favorite outfit.
Or maybe even for dragon knives.