Thanksgiving Meditation

Of all the phrases that grease the wheels of daily living, none are more frequently deployed than “Thank You” and “I’m sorry.” In combination, they form the "Swiss Army Knife" of all interpersonal communication.

They help us initiate and reset relationships, introduce and ingratiate ourselves to people, excuse ourselves from fault, and secure favor.

Friendless is the person who is incapable of a sincere, or for that matter insincere, “Thank You” or “I’m sorry.”

Sadly, we use them so frequently and so fungibly that, except for the most particular of circumstances, they have all but lost their original force and have been relegated to an absent-minded means to propel life forward.

“Thank yous” of the real, heartfelt, and meaningful kind, however, are much more taxing and way less familiar. Even when enthused with the right spirit, it’s often hard to find the words to fully and sincerely express ourselves.

The more genuinely gratitude or contrition are felt, the harder they are to express.

In recent years, I have set myself the challenge each day in November of writing a single, meaningful “Thank You” email to people who have had an impact on myself and my family.

Try it yourself, and you’ll find it’s easy to imagine but terrifically difficult to sustain.

These emails aren’t short notes in a “gratitude journal” that no one will see, written to help me achieve a positive attitude amidst life's challenges. These are real, genuine notes, identifying a debt owed for a kindness or act of friendship that was unwarranted or undeserved.

I try to make them short, to the point, and truthful.

They have run on a continuum from thanking someone for a simple act of kindness to something completely life-changing. From thanking a colleague for supporting a work project to thanking the family of a donor of life-saving tissue after a heart surgery. And all points in between.

As simple as these notes sound, they are challenging to write, trying to find the right words to match the spirit of our relationship and the generosity of the act.

Why 'Sorry' isn't "the hardest word"

Elton John, famously sang, "Sorry seems to be the hardest word." But he is wrong. "Thank you" is harder.

It would be much easier and less emotionally taxing to write a letter of apology than it is to write one of thanks.

At first glance, “Sorry” and “Thank You” seem like polar opposites. After all, they sit at different ends of the interpersonal communication spectrum. But like most opposites, they share some telling similarities.

Sincerely expressed, they both come at a cost, requiring us to overcome our pride and acknowledge a fault, a need or vulnerability, and both are directly personal between us and another person. They are unflinching.

But they also share an important distinction.

When we say “I’m sorry,” we are, in effect, asking the other person to forget (and forgive) a debt. When we say “Thank You,” we are saying, “I owe you, and I want to recognize it.”

When we say “sorry,” we unburden ourselves and create an obligation on the other person; when we say “thank you,” we create an obligation for ourselves and ask the recipient to remember it.

Both are personal pacts—one a pact to forget from which I benefit, and the other a pact to remember, which makes me a debtor.

This is true Thanksgiving, remembering a debt and acknowledging that the ledger is open, obligation-free and unreconciled.

This week, as I was working through the meditations for our season on Thanksgiving, I ran across this quote from Tim Keller;

“It's one thing to be grateful. It's another to give thanks. Gratitude is what you feel. Thanksgiving is what you do.”

Thanksgiving is an act, and done meaningfully, a difficult one. It is the act of remembering and acknowledging a debt. It comes at a cost but also with a great reward. The reward of a future closer relationship.

When we give thanks to God for his being, his creation, and his gifts, we are rewarded with a genuine renewed personal connection with him. As the recipients of so much blessing, our only duty is to remember His goodness and recognize it forever.

Andy

God’s Word In Your Hand