Gratitude

Endings are for gratitude, beginnings are for faith. - Piper
This was at the beginning of a letter Josiah wrote recently right after we left America. That was how we both felt. Then. Now, we are in India.

There is dust everywhere, I can't communicate with anyone. I have no friends here. I couldn't get around even if I tried. No, now I feel the losses more. I ache for the coast. The fresh air. To communicate, to anyone really. In my own language. To see the smile of a friend. The little things that made Sacramento my home. Especially at this time of year. When all my friends are blogging about Fall. The leaves turning bright auburn and orange, and floating down to the ground. The crisp clean air. The trips to apple hill. Sipping a "London Fog" at Prince St. with Marlene. Going to Bishops Pumpkin farm with Grandma and Grandpa to pick out our perfect pumpkins. Apple butter and home made jam. I am mourning the loss of Fall. I am feeling like Endings are for loss, not for gratitude.

And even more, I am mourning the loss of my home. Someday this will be my home. But now I am a foreigner in a strange land. I am feeling the loss in my life and seeing how totally weak I am. I am completely dependant on Him. This morning while bringing my heart to Him I saw clearly that this chapter, however long it will be is me being refined in the fire. But as my favorite song says "You walk with me through fire, and heal all my disease." And God's Spirit, in his loving kindness, brought me to my friend Jessica's blog this evening and then to this quote."Calvin claimed that prayer is 'a discipline by which our weakness is exercised and stimulated.'If that is the case, cannot our lives become a prayer? If we are continually weak, may we not become prayers unceasing?"

I am continually weak and in the fire. I am finding that unending prayer is my only hope. My only hope that my heart will not become bitter from the losses. My only hope that I will not be lost in the fire, but found. And in my prayers to find a place for gratitude. To turn from dwelling on what I have lost to what I have gained. To look for His beauty in my surroundings, circumstances and see that He is lavishly loving me. Even now. Even here.

“Somehow, in the midst of our mourning, the first steps of the dance take place. Somehow, the cries that well up from our losses belong to our songs of gratitude.” - Henri Nouwen
And this gratitude needs to be a practice, a habit. A choice that surpasses my feelings and emotions. It's not Monday, it's Saturday. But I will begin this journey of gratitude now and count the multitude of blessings that I have and am grateful for. And come Monday, I am sure to have more:

little hands that pull on my kurta, feet that crawl into my lap, little lips that say "book?"

peanut butter and Nutella "sandwich" on Nan for dinner

the gentle breeze that met me this morning, officially becoming my first day in India that I did not sweat

for the fire that produces a faith "of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire"

So for me, Endings are for loss and gratitude, beginnings are for continued gratitude and faith.