Eucharisteo & The Sound of Rain

Thanks.

I have often felt burdened by that word.

It's a tag-on. A formality. Something children are taught to say when they're learning their manners. Something you say when you don't know how else to respond. Sometimes it's used at the end of a letter. Sometimes it's used sarcastically. Then there's the holiday version of it. Everyone is always so 'thankful' on that one day of the year.

Most of the time it is really just said so that people will think you're polite and kind and a morally good person.

'Thanks' is probably among one of the first words you were taught. You probably had to say 'thank you' to the kind stranger who held the door open for you. And you probably had to say 'thank you' when your mom handed you a cookie, or when your older sibling let you play with their toy.

If you think back to the first prayer that you ever learned (or even just heard) it also probably had some form of 'thanks' in it. "Thanks" is most likely one of the first things you ever said to Jesus. "Thank you Jesus for our food." "Thank you for dying on the cross." "Thank you for mommy and daddy and my house and my dog and my sister..."

Thankfulness comes so naturally for children (once they learn the word). They can think of so many things that they're thankful for. When I was younger, I would pretty much just list off everything that came to mind when somebody asked what I was thankful for. From the lamp beside my bed to my friend who lived in Sweden.

As I became older, I started to avoid the 'thanks' part of my prayers. It might have been because there were too many things that I was 'supposed' to be thankful for and it would just have taken too long to say them all. Or it could have been because it was just easier to ask for things and talk about all the problems I had. I would lie in bed saying my end-of-a-long-day prayer silently in my head, and my mind would drift. I would start off with "thank you for this day" and then I would quickly end up telling God how I had a ton of homework that I didn't get done, how I was stressed all day because I barely had time to eat, how my parents didn't understand me. Then I would talk to him about my friend drama and the person in class who had frustrated me. I would ask him to fix it all. And then - oh yeah! I forgot to apologize for yelling at my sister. So I would quickly ask for forgiveness for that. Then I would throw in an afterthought - "Thank you for loving me" or "Thank you for my family" - just so I didn't feel as guilty. And maybe I would end with telling Him how great He is and how I loved Him too.

So many demands. So little thanks.

When it came down to it, 'thank you' had lost its meaning for me (as did talking to God altogether, but that's a story for another time!).

A couple weeks ago I was challenged to think of 1000 things that I am thankful for.

When I heard that for the first time, one part of me was thinking "that's going to be so easy" and another part of me was thinking "I don't have time to write all of that down!" No part of me even considered that it actually might be an important thing to do.

Thanks still might have no meaning to you, and you might be reading these words thinking "she's just giving me another reminder to be thankful..." But I'm not going to give another reminder. Seriously just think about this. Think about every time you have ever been angry, upset, worried, bored, jealous, or impatient. In those moments did thankfulness have a home?

For me personally, my answer would be no.

When our hearts are ungrateful, our thoughts our pointless and our minds become darkened (Romans 1:20-22). God becomes angry when we don't thank him. Without thanks there is no joy. Without thanks we don't have the capacity, ability, or strength to accept God's grace.

Why?

Because joy and grace are within thanksgiving.

The story of Jesus giving thanks for a loaf of bread is what helped me understand all of this.

Luke 22:19 says that Jesus took some bread and gave thanks. The Greek translation of 'gave thanks' is eucharisteo. In a previous post I talked about the Greek word for grace, which is charis. This is also the root word of eucharisteo. To take this even further, the root of charis is chara. Chara means joy. 

So why does this matter?

At the heart of thanksgiving, there are grace and joy. Happiness is found in thanksgiving. God's gift of grace is found in thanksgiving.

Don't we all want that gift? Don't we all want to be happy?

See, there is power in thanksgiving. Not the holiday, but the action.

It changes absolutely everything.

Thanksgiving reminds us that our lives are gifts. That this world is not our own. God provides us with everything so that we can go to Him with thanks and receive the joy and grace that He wants to offer us.

I never thought that focusing on what I am thankful for would be a life-changing challenge.

When we focus on being thankful instead of giving anxiety the power to overwhelm us, peace reigns.
When we focus on being thankful instead of allowing anger to grow in our hearts, we find forgiveness. 
When we focus on being thankful instead of justifying jealousy, satisfaction resides in our souls. 

Thanksgiving brings everything to your life.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above." James 1:17

Joy.
Grace.
Peace.

Eucharisteo.


Kayla

Photo Credit: Katie Cottrell

For all Your goodness I will keep on singing, 10 000 reasons for my heart to find

My First 10 Thanks
1. Divine grace that frees me from the strive for perfection.
2. A God who loves me despite my failures.
3. A family who will never give up on me.
4. Friends who unconditionally accept me.
5. A home & country where I am safe & free to love my Saviour.
6. The opportunity & ability to pursue an education & career.
7. Never-ending provision. In every way. All of my needs are met.
8. The sound of beautifully orchestrated melodies, giggling babies, & singing robins in the spring.
9. The warmth of sunshine, the beauty of snowflakes, and the sound of rain at night.
10. Soft fuzzy blankets & earl-grey tea.
[990 more to go] :)

Firm On His Promise I'll Stand

All I ever wanted in life was a sister.

Since the moment that I knew what a sister was, that's all I asked for. So when my mom found out that she was pregnant, I was convinced that it would be a girl. My parents tried to explain to me that I might end up with a brother, but in my two year old mind, there was no doubt it would be a girl.

How happy do you think I was when six days before my third birthday, my sister was born into our world?

I think my dad was just as ecstatic as I was, seeing as he let me out of the house wearing a purple and green tracksuit with white lacy socks and black dress shoes. I’m sure people smiled at the picture the two of us made as we walked down the hospital hallway, on a mission to meet the newest addition to our family. I can honestly say that was the best day of my life. I had great plans for that little girl. She would be my best friend, my companion, my secret keeper. She would be my whole world.

Fast forward three years, and my plan was going exactly the way I wanted it to. I had a playmate, a friend, a partner in crime. A student in my school, a client in my hair salon, a customer in my bakeries. I had someone to talk with at night, someone to sing songs with. Someone to confide in.

I never saw it coming.

I knew what autism was, I mean I had heard the word. It was all over my house. There were books lying around, and internet pages were left open. It was definitely there.

My partner in crime was seven now, and she wasn't anything like the girl who had been my hair model and cookie-taster. She had autism.

All I had ever wanted was a sister who could be my best friend.

Instead, I got a girl who hit and pushed. Who said awkward things and got lost in public places. She was extra work and couldn't be toilet trained and she tired my mom out. People felt uncomfortable around her.

Why did this have to happen to me? I needed someone to talk to. I couldn't talk to my mom because she was always tired, and my dad was always busy. I needed a best-friend-sister. Not an awkward-autism-sister.

I questioned God so much. Everything would just be so much better if you had given me a normal sister. I asked him the same thing so many times. Why?

In grade 10, my mom was diagnosed with depression. And that same year, God gave me my biggest miracle.

A second sister, and my best friend.

See, he knew what I needed all along. He blessed me with the most encouraging and uplifting young woman of God during one of the darkest times in my life. He blessed me with someone who would stand by my side through every battle and who would become part of my family.

He also showed me what a blessing my one and only biological sister is.

That girl is the light of my home. She's the voice of reason, the picture of peace, and the sunshine on a cloudy day. She is the first to laugh, the first to give a compliment, and the first to cry when someone else is in pain. She knows more about animals than anyone else I know, and she sings with more passion than an entire congregation of worshippers. She has a servant's heart, she is honest, and she is a young woman of integrity. She is the only one who understands what it's like to have a mom with depression. She's the only one who can understand how my heart broke when our dog died. She's the only one who knows how horrible my hair looks when I first wake up and still loves me anyways. She is always the first to stand up for me.

She is the best friend anyone could ask for.

The funny thing is the number of times I ask myself, what if? 

What if my sister didn't have autism?
What if my mom didn't have depression?
What if I fail my midterm?
What if I don't make it through university?
What if someone crashes into my car tomorrow?

It looks ridiculous when I type those things out.

God knew the second my sister was conceived that she would have autism. Actually, let me rephrase that. He knew before the world was formed that one day a girl would be born into the Peel family and she would have autism. He also had this amazing plan to bless me with a second sister who would would come into my world during high school and stick with me through the worst years of my life. He had a plan to make her an addition to my family. He designed us both so we would be able to make up for each other's weaknesses and encourage each other to grow closer to Him. He always has a plan.

Why do we question that plan when He's got it all covered?
Why do we worry about tomorrow when He's holding time in his hands?

The truth is that He always knows where He's taking us, but we don't always know where we're going.

That's the whole reason why we need Him.

To direct us. To protect us. To be our anchor in the reckless ocean that is our world. To love us. To be our peace. 

So no more what if's. 

He has this all under control.

Kayla

My Precious Biological Sister

My Miracle Sister 

If I climb to the sky, you're there!

   If I go underground, you're there!

If I flew on morning's wings to the far western horizon,

   You'd find me in a minute -

you're already there waiting!

...

You know me inside and out,

   you know every bone in my body;

You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

   how I was sculpted from nothing into something

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;

   all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared

   before I'd even lived one day.

Psalm 139: 8-10, 13-16