A local radio station designates one hour on Friday afternoons to what they call “Festivus Friday.” Festivus is borrowed from a Seinfeld episode about George’s Dad celebrating the holiday of Festivus, the airing of grievances. So, on Friday afternoons for one hour, people can call in to the show and air a grievance, a complaint. I shall take the liberty of airing several today:
The Royals. 16-4, on the losing end. And we bought tickets for this circus tomorrow night?!
Humidity that saps energy and laughs in the face of hairspray.
Guests who show a lack of respect for keeping the home in which they are visiting clean, leaving lights on and doors unlocked, and deposit their belongings in every room.
Young people, and by that, I mean anyone younger than 50, who lack the skills and desire to hand write a personal note.
Reaching the end of the aluminum foil roll before I’m finished needing aluminum foil.
That look that is given to show displeasure when I didn’t even do anything wrong!
Young people, and by that, I mean anyone younger than 60, who were taught or should have been taught to send a handwritten “thank you” and don’t.
Now, to counter my grievances and turn them into blessings:
I am so grateful that we didn’t buy tickets for Thursday night’s game, but the score doesn’t matter when I am so privileged that I will spend four hours at Kauffman Stadium with my husband, my Dad, my brother, my sister-in-law, and one of my nephews tomorrow evening and Sunday afternoon.
I am so grateful for a ceiling fan to sleep under, an office that is fully AC’d, hair that is long enough now to pull back into a ponytail, and cool days to come.
I am so grateful that guests WANT to come and stay in our home and feel comfortable enough to make themselves comfortable. Besides, guests are just one more reason to use my handy-dandy awesome mixer and bake things.
I am grateful for the huge surprise in an enormous stack of junk mail when I happen to spy a hand-addressed envelope that holds sweetness in the form of words.
I am grateful for the little bit of aluminum foil I had for the breakfast tacos that are inside the sheets of foil that kept said tacos so warm and soft.
I am grateful for the new-found wisdom I have gained over the past three years that my facial expressions leave a lasting impression and can make or break someone’s day, and I need to be ever-so-vigilant in showing on the outside the joy that I feel on the inside.
I am grateful for the lesson I am still learning that even though I sometimes don’t receive a thank you note or even verbal thanks when I give out of love, if I expect it in return, I didn’t give for the right reason. It’s kind of the Matthew 6:1-6 lesson that Mom always tried to teach me…
And finally, for genuine gratefuls not attached to grievances:
I am grateful that today is Dwight’s birthday and I get to think about him all day long. Like I say every Tuesday night: “Best number in the world, B-11. B-1-1.” Why? Because it’s my birthdate, my daughter’s birthdate, my brother’s birthdate, and it’s double #1. Happy birthday, Dwight Dean.
I am grateful for waves of sadness of missing Mom. I love those moments, because I love thinking about Mom and feeling like she is still here. Those moments when something happens and I immediately think, “I have to call Mom and tell her!” and then realize I can’t, and then want to hear her voice one more time, and think about her laugh and her prayers and her collection of miniatures that she always had in common with her best friend and her big purses and her fuzzy slippers and her giggles and her Sunday School lessons and her collection of trash/recycled materials for Children’s Church, and her canned pears on lettuce with a dollop of Miracle Whip (yucky poo) and her hugs and her refrigerator that was LO-OH-OH-OH-DED with grandchildren and great-grandchildren pictures and the way she corrected my mistake when I played a hymn for her just before she went to Heaven…it’s one of those days.
I am grateful for Ephesians 4:32
I am grateful that Sam didn’t grumble too loud when I donated our garage sale items to the church rummage sale and took more than I was supposed to take…
I am grateful for a daughter who is so creative and loves Chick-Fil-A and dresses everyone up like cows just for free chicken. What a mom:
And I am grateful for the smells of a new car, baby lotion on a baby, men’s cologne on a man and not a boy, bacon, fresh-baked bread, fresh asphalt, wafts of dryer sheets floating down the street, ginormous poster markers, Zum soap displays at the grocery store (particularly sandalwood citrus), fresh sawdust/cut wood, and puppy paws.
I can still hear that song from my childhood…may I spend the rest of my moments being humbly grateful, not grumbly hateful.