Two Minute Penance

How To Cultivate A (Truly) Grateful Heart

Blessings in Disguise by Julie @ The Corner with a View

Can We Stop with the First World Problems? by Trista @ Not a Minx

Amanda @ Worthy of Agape
...and YOU! Join us on Facebook!

~*~

I'm not very good at being grateful.

I don't think I really realized this until Julie came up with this topic... but I can tell you that my spiritual director seems to have known this about me for a long time. How do I know that he knew this long before me?

My most common penance is "Spend two minutes thanking God for all the good things in your life."

Or something like that.

It's not as easy as it sounds.

It usually goes a little something like this...

Thank you God for the gift of your only son, for his sacrifice on the cross, for the gift of the Eucharist... thank you for my family who supports me, and good friends... thank you for providing me with a job that I enjoy, and a roof over my head, and food to fill my belly...

And then after about 30 seconds of that, I'm stuck with another 1 minute and 30 seconds of things like this...

Thank you God for air conditioning (recited when this takes place in the summer)...

Thank you God for air conditioning (recited when this takes place in the spring)...

Thank you God for air conditioning (recited when this takes place in the fall)...

Thank you God for my fan (recited when this takes place in the winter and the air conditioning is switched off in my building but it's still too darn hot)...

I think you get the idea?

The moral of the story is, I'm not very good at being grateful. So what on earth am I supposed to write about for this month's topic?!

I think I came up with a solution, and that solution is this: I'm not going to tell you how to cultivate a (truly) grateful heart, because I don't know the answer. I wish I did, but I can't lie to you.

What I am going to write about is this: a grateful heart is not something you are born with. It is not something that you discover one day, and then have the rest of your life. It is something that you must work to cultivate on a daily basis... and most days, I fail. But some days... some days I manage to be truly grateful... or more likely, God gives me some extra grace to be able to have a truly grateful heart, just for a moment. And I am truly grateful for these moments. One of these instances happened a few weeks ago.

I'm going through a rough time right now, and instead of focusing on all the good things happening in my life, I tend to dwell on all the things that are not right, and wonder if the things I had hoped for and thought were supposed to happen are ever going to happen. It's hard for the truly grateful heart to break through this fog.

This is where my mind and heart were as I was walking to my car from a friend's house late one night. It was one of the first nights where it was actually cold in DC, so much so that I put on my gloves for the first time this winter, keeping my hands warm as I carried a box of leftover pizza to my car. I was crossing the street when I heard a rustle, and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see a homeless man, arranging his cardboard boxes and thin blanket to make his bed underneath a tree. He climbed in, snuggled down under his one blanket, and laid there quietly. I thought about stopping to see if he wanted my leftover pizza; but I decided to continue walking to my car as I was alone on a dark street late at night. Yet there was something that really struck me about this man. Though probably cold and hungry, he looked at peace wrapped up in his blanket and cardboard boxes. This man didn't have much, but he seemed to be truly grateful for the things he did have.

I got into my car, turned on the heat, and drove past the man sleeping under a tree. And then that grace from God hit me out of nowhere:

I am truly blessed.

I had spent that evening, and most of the past days, lost in my own world. I was blind to the suffering of others, because all I could think about was my own. But in that moment, God reminded me how blessed I am.

I am blessed because I have a warm car, and a home to drive home to. I am blessed to have leftover pizza, and gloves to warm my hands in the cold. And yes, I am even blessed in my sufferings, because while my suffering means that I may have lost something truly good, it also means that I am blessed to have experienced something good in the first place. My suffering is evidence of true vulnerability for perhaps the first time in my life, evidence of my faith in God and my faith in others and even a little bit of faith in myself. My suffering - though I wish with all my heart I didn't have to experience - is evidence of truly living.

In that brief moment, I had a truly grateful heart.

It didn't last longer than that night, at least that specific moment. But it's these fleeting moments of God shining a light on the blessings we have - the good and the bad - that help us to cultivate a truly grateful heart throughout our lives.

Maybe I won't figure it out tomorrow, or next week, or the next year, but as I just spent more than two minutes thinking about and writing this post, I do know that the next time I receive the "Spend two minutes thanking God for all the things!" penance from my priest, I won't have to "fill time" thanking God for my air conditioning. As I always should, I will spend that time thanking Him for all the good and the bad, the joy and the hurt, the laughter and the tears, because experiencing all of these things means that I am trying to truly experience love and life... and for that, I am truly grateful.

The Coach

The following stems from a small part of a homily I heard last night at a Healing Mass. The priest said in terms of healing that "God never heals you just to sit out out on the bench" - and I took this metaphor and ran with it.

Take me out to the baaaaaaall game!

I used to be afraid of playing softball.

I think it stemmed from a fear of being hit by the ball. That evolved into being afraid of messing up and missing a catch, making the wrong play, and especially striking out at the plate. I relished the times when I went up to the plate and was greeted with four balls, meaning I got to easily walk to first base. I was that girl that the coach stuck in right field and at the end of the line-up, because my lack of confidence was holding me back.

Going to a hitting camp one summer and making the school team that next year gave me some more confidence, and I found myself using the skills I'd always had and improving on my game. I was even a little surprised to see that while I had been stuck in right field for so long, I was actually pretty good at playing in the infield when I was given the chance to play other positions. I still play in the infield to this day.

Even more, I started to find myself not afraid of stepping up to the plate and even excited by the idea of getting to hit the ball. Even though I didn't always make it on base, I moved from the end of the lineup to the beginning, because my coach told me that having someone who wasn't afraid to take a swing at the first pitch was just what we needed to start off the game. While I no longer lead the lineup on my adult team, I do hit the ball almost every time I'm up at the plate, even if it means getting out at first so that the runners in front of me can advance on the bases.

I needed to gain some confidence in myself, but I also had to come to recognize my role on each of the teams with which I have played. It took these things to help make me a better player, allowing me to use my skills to help the team conquer. It isn't about me making a great play or hitting it out of the park, but about what I do that helps my team win the game in the end.

So what about playing for God's team?

Has the fear of striking out or getting hit by the ball ever kept you from stepping up to the plate?

What about the pain, suffering, and confusion you've encountered in the game?

Sometimes it feels like I'm reading the signs from my third base coach (i.e. God),  and I think I know exactly what He wants me to do and so I just go for it - all in. It's only when I strike out, get hit by the ball, just get beat out by the catch at first, or watch that left fielder make a spectacular over-the-shoulder catch when I realize that what I thought I saw down that third base line wasn't really the sign that Coach was giving me.

Frankly, it feels like a wild pitch straight to the face. Or to the heart.

Oomph! Thanks for that pitch.

So what do I do when this happens? Thinking Coach is about to put me on the bench for the mistakes I've made, I just go ahead and bench myself to save Him the trouble. Yet, once again, this is reading the signs all wrong, and by doing this, I keep Him from putting me back into play where He needs me. I keep myself on the bench, not quite sure where to find healing, when really I need to get back into the field to find what I seek.

God doesn't allow me to experience pain and suffering just to sit me out of the game. He doesn't let my heart get broken, and then leave me alone to heal. He is there to coach me through the pain, wanting to heal me.

Aw, he's too cute to be benched!

I have trouble letting God coach me through the pain, though, especially when I hold onto the idea that He led me there with those crazy baseball signals. (Wait, did He touch the brim of his hat to indicate an actual signal or was it just a signal to throw off the other team... now I'm confused!) Even when I turn to Him, I still have a difficult time completely opening myself up to His comforting words and healing grace. I don't know why - because I beg for for my heart to be open to healing - but I just continue to keep myself on the bench, guzzling my water, spitting sunflower seeds, and trying to do what I can to nurse my bumps and bruises, all the while wishing I could be back out in the field. Yet, while I'm sitting here doing this, Coach is just trying to give me the signals to heal me. He doesn't want to do this just to keep me on the bench. He wants to heal me to put me back into the ball game.

Why? God is the Coach. He is the best Coach out there, but He needs me to go out and actually play the game for Him. There's only so much a coach can do to lead his team to victory, because He can give us all the right signals and coaching tips, but we have the freedom to choose otherwise or choose to see what we think we want to see. Unfortunately, we are playing the toughest team out there, and they are led by a mischievous and relentless coach (i.e. Satan), and Coach can't afford to let His team sit on the bench. He needs me to play my hardest, to do what I can to help the team win the game.

He needs me to go up to the plate. He needs me to bat again for Him. He needs me to take some swings for others. He needs me to be a witness, to show others that despite the mistakes I make in the game, despite the times I get hit and fall to the ground, broken and weak, I can still heal and come back even stronger. He needs me to let Him pick me back up. He wants to heal me and give me another chance to help the team. He needs me to do this to help bring others to Him.

Imagine the kind of home run welcome you'd have if God
were your baseball coach! AWESOME!

I can't be afraid to go to the plate to bat again. Not just go to the plate, and stand there, and hope for a walk - I have to go to the plate, ready to swing away. Ready to take some hits. Ready to take a chance on striking out. I have to be ready and willing to take these risks for the chance that I'll hit it out of the park. He needs me to take those risks if I'm going to play for His team. Sometimes He needs me to help bring others home to Him - to bat them around the bases and score some runs - even if it means making a sacrifice play and getting out myself. This is the call of a team player, and in being a follower of Christ, we are all called to be team players.

Blessed Mother Teresa said, "Let God use you without consulting you. Give God permission." I have to let Him heal me so that He can use me for the next big play. I shouldn't have to give Him permission, but He will wait for me to say, "Yes" to whatever play He calls. I have to let him use me to do what's best for the team, and I have to trust in His coaching.

I don't know what the next play is going to be, or even what kind of play Coach is going to call. As I wait, I am trying to learn to be more accepting and open to the trials, suffering, and mistakes - and the eventual healing - that I will continue to encounter in this game. Hopefully, I will learn the signals that will bring me across that home plate, where God the Coach is waiting, with a jumping high five, to say, "Welcome Home!"

This is how excited Coach gets when you come back to the game!