Thank You.

There is a reason for the period at the end of just two words: I decided that’s where I stop. It’s where I stop letting every other exhale be another doubt-stricken question, plea, and/or expression of frustration. Not because I don’t think God can handle it, but because I can’t anymore. And because, in the understatement of a lifetime,

He deserves so much better.

For too long I found myself uttering prayers that had to do with everything but gratitude. My 30 min commute to work each morning gives me ample time to just think. A lot of the same things run around in my head repeatedly these days, and they tend to unsettle me, evoke impatience or frustration, make me laugh at how ridiculous they are or were, make me regret decisions I’ve made, make me wonder and wish and want. It became all-consuming and led to what I’d like to call my down-fall, but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate. I may have tripped over a massive slice of humble pie and fallen, but when I did I was met by a God who ultimately turned everything that made me feel gross into my “uprise” instead, if you will.

There are few feelings more distasteful than being sick of yourself (amen?), and I had this fed-up feeling one day on my way home from work. I think I was just about to launch into yet another emotionally exhausting time of thinking-turns-to-questioning-and-suddenly-now-I-can’t-see-the-good-anywhere, and I could feel myself getting colder on the inside. And along with the cold crept anger, entitlement, pride, self-righteousness and all kinds of other scary stuff. I was letting myself become less malleable, so

I stopped.

I made my prayers do a 180 and just started saying “thank you.” I started thinking about all the things I have to be thankful for that I had been neglecting to acknowledge for so long. “God, thank you for…” over and over and over. I even thanked him for the things that I had previously been throwing back at Him and asking why, over and over, as if He hadn’t heard me the first few thousand times; as if He’d forgotten what He’d let happen; as if He didn’t have a plan.

For a few days I was very intentional with making gratitude a habit. My commute became so much sweeter, and I kid you not, after about three days I felt like a different person. God softened my heart a whole lot and gave me eyes to see how much He truly takes care of His sheep. He hears our prayers and He is faithful to answer them in His timing and in His way. And then I just felt so sorry for letting my selfishness deprive Him of my worship, and for being so so ungrateful.

A couple things: I discovered that gratitude truly breeds contentment and joy, two things that I seriously need copious amounts of on the daily. Also, gratitude is worship, and God is more than deserving of every ounce of it that I can muster in my short little life; there’s no time for complaining. (Although I’m pretty talented when it comes to making the time, sadly.)


Just wanted to share that I feel like I’m 2 years old again, learning how to say

thank you.

P.S. Speaking of that… shoutout to my best friend, Rachel, who hand-picked the most perfect Christmas gift for me this year. I love love love it, and I love her even more. THANK YOU!


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