Expresssing the Gifts of Gratitude

by Rev. Leroy Zemke

"To roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." Robert Frost

"The real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on Earth." Nhat Hanh

All around us are gifts, gifts that emerge in tender monments, fragile places, silent spaces awaiting their ultimate disposition within the human heart. What is required of the givers and the receivers is an openness to the fullness of life that reaches far beyond the gift itself. Here we are-momentarily-lifted far beyond our ordinary selves into the world of the incredible, the beautiful, the bountiful and radiant, the hopeful and the truly transcendent.

Let me share a story which may further illustrate this premise far more eloquently than the lanuage in which it will be clothed, more poetically than cascading ribbons of iridescent light and shadow in the tumbling waters of a waterfall. Only the names have been changed.

Beth, a tired an frightened young mother clutched her only child closely to her bosom seeking to comfort and calm her little one's distress and soothe her fears. Then she put her back in her bed, only to pick her up again in a few minutes and repeat the same efforts over and over again. This marked the second night that her three year old Rebecah alternately awakened, fitfully cried, and fell back to sleep. Her hot face and fevered body never cooled and her breathing had become labored and short.

"Oh, God," Beth cried out, "Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me to help Rebecah!"

Beth's husband , Bob, had to stay one more day in California to finalize the details of a year long contract negotiation, a business deal he had hoped and dreamed would come together. And now it was happening! Finally happening. It would bring badly needed income after a year of severe struggles and hardships, cruel disappointments and rejection after rejection!

But Bob wasn't there...and she needed him desperately, now!

Beth turned her attention to the feverish child again and sobbed in her anguish. Alone. Frightened. Finally Beth decided that she would dress, bundle Rebecah up in blankets, and they would drive across the snow crusted countryside to the tiny little hospital nearly thirty miles away. It was midwinter and bitterly cold. The time was nearly five o'clock in the morning. She worried, what if the car wouldn't start?! What if they got on their way and the car stalled, as it tended to do in cold weather? These and nameless fears possessed her as she dressed. She tried to distract herself momentarily by attempting to remember the lyrics of an old hymn.

"Rrrinng! Ring...ring." Beth was startled back to he senses. The Doorbell? Surely she had imagined the doorbell's rrinngg!" The tone was deliberate and persistent. "Oh, God," Beth thought, "what do I do now? Oh, God, I'm alone! WHY did Bob have to stay one more day? Who could be ringing th doorbell at this hour? Oh, God, I'm frightened!"

Beth started toward the door and then stopped. The ringing continued. Unexpectedly, she stopped feeling frightened and confused. Something inside her being, deep inside her very soul, called to her and gently urged her, "Go to the door." Beth followed the directive.

At the door, she paused again before opening it. She was responding mechanically, as if she were in a dream, and none of what she was experiencing was real. Then she opened the door. There in the darkness of the early morning stood a young woman dressed very much like herself, who spoke to her quickly.

"Do you have a young daughter who is ill?" Beth was so startled, she could only gasp and answer, "Yes, yes...she's very feverish and her breathing is difficult..." Her voice trailed off. The woman spoke reassuringly and asked if she might enter and visit with the child. "Yes, please come in," murmured Beth.

Beth led the unknown visitor to the child's room. The young woman leaned over and gently stroked the fitful Rebecah's head, picked up her hand, and then paused and kissed her on the forehead. With a calming demeanor of peaceful serenity, she gradually turned to Beth and Said, "Rebecah will be fine by noon today and she will gain strength every day." The mysterious stranger then announced that she must leave and slowly back to the door.

Somewhat bewildered and yet inexplicably reassured, Beth accompanied her and tried to thank her. The young woman held up her hand and said, "Remember your prayer...'God, help me'...I have been sent to help you." She smiled at Beth, with a smile that seemed to convey a world of care and trust...looked back in Rebecah's direction again. Almost effortlessly, she quietly opened

the door and stepped outside, gently closing the door behind her and was gone.

By noon Rebecah's fever was indeed gone and her breathing was deep and easy. And she improved each day thereafter as the young woman had promised.

In telling the story, Beth now feels that they were visited by an angel, an angel who brought the profound gift of healing to Rebecah. And nothing and no one will ever convince Beth otherwise.

There are many gifts in this story. Certainly the of gift of healing, however it occurred, is most remarkable in and of itself and all that if offers and implies. It is many layered.

But what of Beth's willingness to trust her deeper impulse or intuition to open the door? Unquestionably, her rational self said "no". Yet she responded to something beyond her personal self and her fear based emotional dilemma.

And what of the gift that in finally asking God to help her. Is this not a major gift unto itself?

We often seek for gifts that life might offer us, but fail to recognize the gifts because of the covering that enwraps them (the circumstances).

The Expressing of Gratitude, then, is really about learning how to listen, now to be open to inner guidance when it is needed and how to receive what is offered. Yes, gratitude is a thankful attitude, a thankful heart, a feeling which is held and offered form the depths of our innermost spirit.

It is an approach to our larger nature through the various doorways of life that gently call us to remember that God is in charge, indeed, of our lives, far more than we may see or know or believe.

"Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone." Psalm 91:9-12

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