The Little Things

Thanksgiving is here again and no doubt from one end of the country to the other, in all four directions, someone will say something about being "thankful" tomorrow. I'm thinking about a comment made to me a number of years ago by a minister I knew who said, "We ought to cultivate an attitude of gratitude." Ministers are known for a fondness for alliteration; they say it helps folks remember the main points of the sermon. That I recall this little tidbit after more years than I'm willing to admit is testimony to the effect of alliteration on my memory at least.

The whole idea of gratitude implies that I'm not the only, or even the ultimate, source of those things I appreciate in my life. Something or someone has entered my sphere of experience and bestowed upon me that which I did not have before. Furthermore, they've done this out of no desire or need to obtain something from me in return. There's been no transaction or exchange of goods for service or remuneration. It might not even be demonstrable that they are directly responsible for that which I enjoy.

I'm talking, of course, about grace. But not the grace of the magnanimous or spiritual. I mean the grace of presence: the grace that surrounds and penetrates us like the air we breathe, and is most frequently outside conscious awareness. You have to think about grace in order to notice it. Most of us are too busy to notice anything ordinary. We're busy looking for things that are extraordinary. Grace is everyday, plain, simple, interactive. Grace is waiting for us to see it and be grateful.