Like I said, extravagant, lavish, delightful. While sitting here thinking about Thanksgiving, it dawned on me that that's really one word, a noun, that is made up of two complete, separate words. Thanks, a noun, and Giving, a verb. Verbs require action. Yes, of course, I'm thankful for the things I have, for the people I love and who love me back, and for the incredible provision and abundance I experience day in and day out. However, how often do my actions re-affirm this sentiment?
Over the coming year, I'm determined to live with a greater attitude of thankfulness. Rather than just remembering to regularly acknowledge and thank God for the abundance in our lives, I believe we're called to take it one step further. Have you ever really stopped to consider the depth behind the idea of "dying to yourself so that others might live"? Recently I did just that and it blew me away. Before I'd always thought, "Yeah, yeah, die to myself. I know. That means I need to put the needs of others before myself." Somewhere along the way, I'd never really considered the true significance and weight of the part about the "so others might live". I'd never really stopped to consider how dying to myself might actually make a difference in the life (or prevent the death) of someone else.
Maybe this child? Or maybe one of the countless many like him?
I'm struggling in the middle of wanting to make a difference and sinking into despair with the weight of the world's problems. Can one person make a difference? And how? What kind of action does it really take to GIVE thanks? I'm sure you're like me, in that looking at pictures of children suffering can send you to the pits of guilt and depression in the matter of seconds. I've been there, and it doesn't help. It's not the point. What is? To GIVE thanks. How? We've got our instructions. Die to yourself. Be Jesus to the world. It doesn't necessarily take selling all your possessions and moving to Africa. But what about going without one more cup of $4 joe and giving it to the guy on the corner who may or may not have eaten today? What about giving your old coat to someone who's shivering in the cold? Little ripples can be the beginning of big waves. Battling Self is an on-going, never-ending process. I wish it'd get easier, but I'm sure it won't. I am "the chief of sinners". Thank God, though, that he cares even for the sparrow. He knows their needs. He hasn't forgotten them. Jesus, please help us to remember them, too.
