When Gratitude Changes How You See Now
It seems so little and small . . .
To say thanks, or give thanks, or to lay down a thanksgiving.
Gratitude is a discipline that doesn’t take much effort at face value, but when you slow down to think about it—mustering up things, people, places, moments to give thanks for—that type of looking and noticing changes you.
Noticing the way the wildflowers dance in the wind or the way the leaves sing at night brightens your eyes to joy. You can be welcomed home by love when considering the new leaf on your fig tree or minding the golden hour’s light that pours into your living room.
Savoring your grandma saying, “Well hello, gorgeous!” and hearing your grandpa’s voice on the phone can swell your heart with delight. Noticing the hum of the dishwasher, or the sound of fresh cubes from the ice maker wraps you in care. Oddly, you may no longer mind that slow Sunday morning when all in your home, especially the mess, feels like it belongs. Gratitude just might do that—transform you moment by moment.
What Gratitude Changes
The old coffee cups on the table become a reminder of the warm cup that was earlier enjoyed.
The milk on the counter becomes a remnant of the early morning cereal bowl.
Dishes in the sink become relics of all the meals shared together and a foreshadow of the ones to come.
Practicing gratitude made these quiet, ordinary moments gifts, hidden right here in plain sight. Seeing familiar moments-turned-gifts was like turning my face to the sun after all the rain had gone.
But I didn’t always notice, consider, or see this way.
Eye Level With My Surroundings
I became curious about routinely practicing thanksgiving in college when I came across a blog post by Ann Voskamp. Ann talked about weaving thanksgiving into a habit by writing down our thanksgivings as a daily act of gratitude to God. First it started as a “dare,” a dare to find 1000 gifts to give thanks for. Ann dared us to find gifts in our everyday ordinary moments. She challenged us to find gifts like this:
Find 3 gifts red. Find 3 gifts wrapped. Find 3 gifts sunlit. Find 3 gifts heard.
This dare almost taunted me—like a teasing to see if I would really do it. If I would really dare to get eye level with my surroundings, and orient myself with what was already here.
Soon after, I started writing down three things I was grateful for most days on a sticky note and posted them on my bedroom door.
The blooming iris, budding roses, and Mexican cookbooks.
I don’t remember experiencing a huge change. In fact, absolutely nothing changed in my actual day to day. But I do remember thanksgiving becoming a sacred routine I craved before bedtime.
Something shifted inside me as I slowed down to notice how God’s nearness was already here. Naming God’s love, giving thanks for God’s attunement towards me, transformed my sense of safety and security.
Blankets wrapping the bed, me under the covers, hair twisted in a bun.
The Nearness of God
Looking back at the small moments throughout my days, meant I didn’t have to look ahead anymore to find comfort in something I hoped was coming. Swindled early and often to overlook the right now, and instead focus on what’s to come, it never occurred to me that God could be so near, so commonplace. Somehow, writing these words made the Word become flesh, like I was face to face with God as one would talk to a friend (Exodus 33:11).
The light pouring through the shades, glistening porch & flowerbeds after watering, the blue sky’s reflection ricocheted off my water bottle.
Naming these gifts all round me, laying down a thanksgiving with my hands, pressing my fingers to pen and pen to paper, God’s love became so clear—He was already right here, Emmanuel.
Thanksgiving slowly became a way to come back, to come home, to return to Love. It’s interesting, isn’t it? How these disciplines change us, without changing a single thing around us. Because Love is already here, and what a wonderful thought—that Love is only a thanksgiving away.
My grandma’s accent, the hum of the fan, the oven’s timer ringing—our banana bread is ready.
Meet Alexia Neill
Alexia Neill is as educator and aspiring author based in San Antonio, Texas. Passionate about inspiring others to live with their whole heart, Alexia writes about how God’s love invites us come home. You can connect with Alexia at her Substack publication, In Returning & Rest.
Where to find her . . .
Begin Within is a series to inspire a year-round lifestyle of gratitude that will impact not only your own life, but the lives of your neighbors as well. Gratitude is a theme we talk about often around here because it ties so closely into other missional living rhythms. Practicing gratitude reminds to keep our hearts soft and expectant and our eyes open. Therefore, the more we embrace gratitude, the easier it becomes to truly see our neighbors and where we can join what God is already doing in our neighborhoods.
If you would like to contribute to Begin Within, you can find the submission guidelines here.
