Moods Go by Kicking. . .

“Let us be thankful and so worship God acceptably

with reverence and awe.” (Hebrews 12:28b)

I awoke this morning just before five o’clock as an orange glow began to mount on the eastern horizon. An actual sunrise?! Wahoo! I threw back my blankets, climbed out of bed, and opened both bedroom windows to let fresh air into the room. Then I lifted the living room blinds and peered up at the sky. There were some clouds, but not many. I stood and waited, looking to the east. (Oh, please, let there be light! There hasn’t been enough of it this year.) But instead of a steady increase in brightness, a grey overcast began to develop and soon enveloped the entire sky.

I moved into the kitchen, wishing mightily for the cheerful, vivid blue, sunny skies I loved so much in the high desert--and miss so much here--where visible sunrises and sunsets are a matter of course, even in winter. For most of this western Oregon winter, I’ve taken the grey skies and rain as a matter of course and have even enjoyed them, but this has gone on and on, and, for heaven’s sake, it’s almost July!

As the grey of this morning’s sky began to work its way into my mind, and then into my heart, in the form of apathy toward the day, I thought of the scripture, “Be content with such things as you have. . .” Oh, I am content, but I like the blue sky and the sunlight that God created and called good! Grey is not for skies; it is for concrete. . . and prisons! If I were to paint cheerfulness and warmth, grey would not be in my palette.

I ran water into the kettle and ground some beans for coffee (Stumptown Hair Bender beans, because if you’re going to drink coffee, it should be really good coffee!). As I measured the grounds into the French press pot and waited for the kettle to rumble, I chided myself: I am not in the high desert now; I am here. And the sky here happens to be perpetually grey this year (unusually so, maybe, and tiresome to the natives as well as to me, but that is of little comfort).

I sat down at the table with a mug of coffee and two pieces of buttered toast smeared with peach preserves and continued my self-chiding: So just stop it! Don’t let such a silly thing as how often, or how little, the sun shines affect your cheerfulness!

Okay, then. Shall I play Pollyanna’s “Glad-About” game with the color grey? Here I go: The color grey looks good on me. There’s a nice piece of artwork called Study in Grey and Black (otherwise known as Whistler’s Mother). Concrete has many beneficial uses. As do prisons.

Or, rather than playing Pollyanna, how about not thinking at all about whether skies are grey or blue and sunny? How about focusing, instead, on the many blessings in my life? I thought of the old hymn we used to sing often in church when I was young: “Count your blessings, name them one by one. Count your blessings, see what God has done.”

I stood up from the table, walked around the house, and began to enumerate the obvious sweet things in my life, big or little, “important” or not (you don’t have to read this long list; it’s mostly for me):

I walked to the front door and started there. Thank You, Lord, for this sweet little hand-woven Persian carpet in the entryway. Thank You for Julie, who gave me this pretty hand-woven market basket and prays for me so faithfully. Thank You for a comfortable loveseat and chair to sit on. I moved to the mantle that serves, for now, as my nature display-space and picked up the little red pumice stone I brought down from the summit of the South Sister when I climbed it last summer: Thank You for strength in my legs and air in my lungs and for the magnificent beauty of Your world as viewed from that mountain. My eyes fell on the shells and sand dollars sitting in a pink glass antique dish: Thank You for the healing gift of those extended weeks of 70 degree days (in February!) when my mother and I walk-walk-walked the beach after my father’s death. Thank You for wonderful, loving parents and for my warm, funny, kind-hearted, super-fun siblings, who have been my best friends for so many years. I continued walking around the house, looking and listening: Thank You for a roof over my head. Thank You for the lovely singing of the birds outside. Thank You for so many windows in this house and for the wood floors. Thank You for the extra bedroom for housing guests. And thank You that Michelle and her three little ones camped out on that floor for two fun days last week. I spied the little battery-powered Bat-mobile that Jayden left here: Thank you for the gift of grandchildren—little ones who remind us what faith and trust look like. Thank You that I have a warm, comfortable bed (even if it is currently a cot). Thank You for warm memories of the wonderful grandma who pieced the quilt on that bed. Thank You for so many good books to read. Thank You for Bob and Laura who have been such good friends and who made it possible for me to listen to these Tim Keller sermons every day. And thank You for Tim Keller because the sermons are such an encouragement to me. Thank You for the flowers in this little vase—they add such sweetness to this spot. Thank You for abundant delicious, fresh, healthy food to eat (and thank You that this includes dark chocolate). Thank You for the sister who kindly provided this cell phone for my use and for grown kids who call and text-message their mother every day!

Oh, Lord, I am truly, deeply, widely blessed! Thank You for providing for me, for sustaining me, for putting so many wonderful people in my life. Thank You for little gifts and big ones, too. Thank You for the grace and mercy you extend to me every single day. Thank You for Your unending love and faithfulness and for the fact that they are not dependent on my steadiness.

And on and on the list grows, and grey moods dissipate.

Oswald Chambers wrote that moods don’t go by praying—they go by kicking. And one sure way to kick the mutterings of mind and heart (that will grow insidiously into full-blown discontent and ungratefulness if unchecked) is by counting our blessings.

The point isn’t really that this will make us more cheerful, but that God will be honored and that our hearts and minds will be open to Him:

“He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God.” (Psalm 50:23)

And a funny thing happens as the list of thanks is being offered. We begin to pray for all of those people who are brought to mind. We think of them and how much we love them, and we pray for their needs. Thanksgiving can slide us away from self-absorption and into intercession. It’s a good way to start the day.

(As I finish writing this, the sky brightens, but that is very much beside the point. Still, thank You, Lord, for sunshine!)

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Now that I've posted this, I'm wondering why the title showed up in blue. Does it look that way to everyone? And can anyone tell me how can I change it (I can't seem to figure it out)?