Mining Gratitude in the Mundane

Last year, I planned to host a ladies brunch in December. This was to be the inaugural event for my ministry in our community, an invitation for women to hit pause from all the activities surrounding the holidays and let God love on them for a couple of hours. Ads were placed and postcards were distributed. Social media invitations were posted. Plans were underway.

Life took a crazy turn when my mom fell and ended up in the hospital before going into rehab – all in the weeks leading up to the brunch and right as I was preparing the message. I lost all ability to think beyond the next 24 hours let alone plan an event.

The ladies in my Bible study small group came to my rescue.  They said, tell us what you want and we’ll make it happen.

I have no idea how they pulled it off.  None.  I just showed up at my own event.  They handled everything else. I may not know all of the details, the trials, the sweat, and the planning phone calls that went into it, but I know the result was a beautiful and amazing morning. I’d call it a miracle. Even as I remember it, thankfulness floods my heart for the way God worked everything out through my sweet friends.

I wish I experienced that thankfulness all the time, but I don’t.  There are days that seem mundane. So ordinary that I am hard pressed to name a moment God intersected my life. It’s as if I am completely oblivious to life around me. I feel like God has to get tired of my rote list of things I am thankful for when nothing new stands out. I spiel them off without letting the words of thankfulness penetrate my heart. Maybe you have such a list and feel the same way at times.

As a follower of Christ, I know I am supposed to always be thankful. I know I am to be thankful in all circumstances. It’s easy to be thankful for the obvious big God intersections. Cures, healings, babies, marriages, Christmas brunch events. It’s when we are unaware of the God intersections that our thankfulness might ring hollow or become perfunctory.

How can we posture ourselves to let the knowledge we are to be thankful travel the distance from our head to our heart and get to the place where thankfulness is our state of being even when it feels like there is nothing new to be grateful for?   

Oddly, I discovered a nugget nestled in the story of the Wedding at Cana (John 2). You might be more familiar with this as Jesus’ first miracle. A wedding is anything but an ordinary event. But tucked into the story is a lesson we can apply to our more routine days.  

Jesus, his disciples, and his mother Mary were guests at a wedding when Mary became aware of a potentially disastrous situation.

There was no more wine.

We don’t know much about ancient Palestinian weddings. But commentators suggest that this would have been, at minimum, an embarrassment and at worst, could have brought financial hardship. Failure to offer hospitality was thought to carry the consequence of severe fines. Running out of wine would have been seen as the epitome of lack of hospitality. We can understand Mary’s distress over this situation. She wanted to help her friends so she reported the problem to Jesus. Jesus responds by engaging the servants to fill jugs with water, instructing them to draw some of the water out and take it to the host of the ceremonies.

“They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, ‘Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now’”(John 2:9-10).

This drama is occurring in the background of a wedding party in full swing. The only people we know for sure were aware of this brewing crisis were Mary, Jesus, and the servants. The servants presented their cups to the host and voila, crisis averted.  The host slaps the bridegroom on the back, commending him for saving the best for last and the party goes on. I imagine the befuddled bridegroom receiving such praise wondering what the host was talking about and delight invades my heart as this story reveals the joy of the Lord as the giver of good gifts.

The bridegroom received a miracle he…

• did not ask for
• did not know he needed
• had no idea even occurred.

This invites me to wonder. How often might I be the recipient of such a miracle? In the grand scheme of some of Jesus’ miracles, turning water into wine seems a little trivial. But no detail of our lives is trivial to the Lord. Not a single one. Viewing this story from the perspective of the bridegroom assures me that God is always working in our lives. Even in the minutia.

It also assures us that he knows what we need before we ask, or even know to ask. God is already working in the details. Intersecting our lives, giving good gifts out of his abundant love for us. No strings. Just because.

Walking in the bridegroom’s shoes, with the benefit of the back-story, teaches us that while we may not always recognize miracles in our lives, we can be confident they happen.

This challenges me and I hope it challenges you too. Perhaps today we can offer heartfelt thankfulness to our God who cares about the details, knowing that he intersected our lives in ways we didn’t ask for, didn’t know we needed, and can’t specifically name. Because maybe today, knowing God is at work will be enough.