February 12, 2012: When It's Hard to Give Thanks

3 hard eucharisteos:
eucharisteos: a verb; from the Greek [yoo-khar-is-teh'-o] To be grateful, feel thankful, give thanks.

In Matthew 26:26, Mark 14:22, and Luke 22:19, during the final hours of his earthly life, his last moments to teach his disciples, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, and broke it.  A simple act, yet so rich in meaning.  He took bread, gave thanks and broke it.  Jesus, the Bread of Life (John 6:35), gave thanks and willingly allowed his body to be broken, laying down his life for me.

Eucharisteos is not always easy, not always joyful, not always fun to blog about.  Sometimes eucharisteos is hard, painful, even gut-wrenching.  Knowing what was before him, Jesus gave eucharisteos.  Can I?

• The injured muscle in my arm. I don't know why it happened, I don't know when it will heal.  I hate feeling like I am carrying around a useless appendage that won't cooperate with anything I want it to do.  Yet, I am thanking God for it today, knowing that 1 Thessalonians 5:17 tells me to give thanks in all circumstances (emphasis mine). Not just the circumstances where the outcome looks positive or where there is no suffering involved.
• A painful incident with my son several years ago.  It still causes me sorrow when I think of it, but I remembered it this morning when I was in church.  I love my church.  It's a beautiful place full of broken, but healing, people who are just placing one foot in front of the other in an effort to follow the way of Christ.  And the thing is, if it weren't for what happened to my son, I don't know if I would have been there this morning.  Often we see through the glass dimly, but this time I believe I understand a portion of why God allowed.  It was for greater good, for my son's growth and mine.  It brought us nearer to the foot of the cross and, although it's a bit gory, I want to be there.
• A family member's divorce.  Horrible, ugly, agonizing.  God says he hates divorce, not because he enjoys making up rules and wants to wreck our fun, but because he knows how it rips apart families, causes grief and heartache.  It's hard, very hard.  Again I don't know why.  I don't comprehend at all, but again I can see him working good.  It has caused us to band together as a family, to lean on each other a little more, to express our feelings out loud.  A hard eucharisteo.