Are things disturbing nowadays? Yes. At home, whatever side you may be on politically, you’re probably upset more often than you’re comfortable. The world at large is certainly a source of relentless concern. “Why must we continually be bombarded with all the negative news from overseas?,” a man asked on a recent TV talk show. “I’m just weary listening to it all.” Who does not understand his sense of exhaustion? And yet, I’m sure the victims in Ukraine and Gaza are weary of having their homelands bombed, and the people in Israel are weary living under the constant threat of military reactions from numerous neighbors. Then there’s Sudan … and Yemen … and Syria … and Nigeria … and El Salvador’s prisons … and Venezuela’s dictator … and our own volatile and often declining stock market … and, well, the list is long. Are things disturbing nowadays? Silly question.
However, things are not merely disturbing. There are other issues. Other experiences. Other facets of the stone. Every day we are beneficiaries of gifts that we have not earned (and often have neither requested nor expected). Every act of courtesy from a stranger is a gift. Every inquiry from a friend about our family, health, or happiness is, as well. As I sit typing this on a lovely sunny morning, I am gazing out the windows at rhododendrons and azaleas in full bloom. Nature is a sacred gift. I received an email yesterday from a man on the other side of the world. He simply said, “Today I was thinking about what you did for me once, and how my life was changed by it. I just want you to know how much that mattered to me.” His kind words were an unexpected and treasured gift. We were at a family memorial service for my mother-in-law Saturday. It was held next to a river in the mountains of Virginia, a spot she loved. My wife and her three brothers, plus some nieces and nephews, spoke of moments they remembered with her. Almost every one mentioned a “gift” she had given – not something physical or tactile, but a treasured moment, a lingering memory, an ongoing influence. When we arrived, most of the family had already gathered. Our granddaughter spotted me, ran across the lawn, hugged me without saying a word, and then rejoined the other kids. She probably has no idea what an important gift she gave in that moment. Today I will have lunch with a young couple to finalize details for their upcoming wedding. They will soon vow “to love and to cherish” until they are parted by death. Those vows point toward a gift that is too grand to be described but can only be experienced. From there I will drive to campus to spend time with students who sit in my classes. They trust me to help equip them for their futures. That is a gift I take seriously. No matter how dark or desperate the world may feel (and it is, and you and I are divinely mandated to do what we can to mend the brokenness), there are still evidences of goodness and grace all around. Those things are gifts that bring light amid the shadows. They are moments that help us breathe again.
If we are aware of the good things, then gratitude means more than mere acknowledgement and acceptance. It requires action. Robin Wall Kimmerer is a respected botanist and a member of the Native American Potawatomi people. In a recent article entitled Flourishing is Mutual (in which she described how everything we enjoy in nature is a result of give-and-take from a multiplicity of natural agents), she wrote: “If our first response to the receipt of gifts is gratitude, then our second is reciprocity.” Reciprocity. Receiving calls us to give back. When something good comes our way, if we are truly thankful, then that experience should set goodness in motion through us. We pass the lighted candle along so that life for others can also become a little less dark. “If our first response to the receipt of gifts is gratitude, then our second is reciprocity.” So, here’s a simple question: In light of the good things we receive every day, what are we giving back?
Are things disturbing nowadays? Yes. But they become a little less so when, aware of the goodness that still exists, we pass some goodness along.