Today we observe Thanksgiving. People across the country are gathered with family and friends, to once again eat and acknowledge the blessings bestowed upon us. Most likely, or hopefully so, the majority of these feasts of gratitude will begin with a short prayer, a moment of grace, acknowledging that the gifts are given by someone. The giver being a good and gracious God.
The thought of such prayers is encouraging and moves me. The image of grace said before the Thanksgiving meal also brings to mind one of my favorite G.K. Chesterton quotes. He writes,
“You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”
I love this passage because Chesterton is highlighting something vital, yet woefully missing in my own life. Chesterton is illustrating his discovery and acknowledgment that everything is a gift. It’s not just our meals for which we should give thanks, but for every good and beautiful aspect of our life.
Why not say grace before playing with my children? Why not say grace before reading a novel, taking or teaching a ballet class, enjoying a date night with my husband? Truly all these experiences are gifts. Gifts that are just as life-sustaining as my meals. Grace and thanksgiving are needed long after the turkey leftovers have been devoured.
I also particularly love that last turn of phrase in the Chesterton’s quote, “and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” Here he’s linking his vocation– writing– to his aspiration of constant gratitude.
To give thanks for my work, which encompasses my motherhood and forays into dance performance and choreography, is a beautiful (if not easily attained) sentiment. The ability to produce and create is a gift indeed. Mankind’s image-bearing creative efforts reflect a God whose persistent work of creation continually “makes all things new.” Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to lose sight of this truth.
It’s difficult to identify my work as a blessing. There is also the challenge of gratitude being work in and of itself. I’ve experienced this first hand. I’ve only recently resurfaced after a period of mourning. It was almost a year ago that I experienced a miscarriage, and while I’m once again expecting a new baby, a recent pre-term labor scare and hospital stay brought about more worry and fear of another loss.
It has been hard to be grateful to say the least. Faced with the loss and endangerment of my children, giving thanks has not been in the forefront of my mind. Yet, I’ve found it is possible. A simple reorganization of thoughts and a shift in mindset can help reframe a situation. Where at first I only feel God’s absence, with a little work in creative thought and a whole lot of grace, I can begin to feel his embrace in the love and support of friends and family.
As the liturgy proclaims, the act of giving thanks to God is “right and just,” but it is also a valuable spiritual exercise. It is a training of my heart and mind, especially in times of trial, that enables me to think creatively, as the Lord has done and is doing. A God who can bring about the greatest good, from the terror of the cross is creative indeed. What good will he draw out from my own troubles if I but give thanks and listen to him? And in what ways will I be called to participate in His holy and creative work?
So this Thanksgiving, I will gladly partake of my family’s small feast. But I will not let the grace before the meal be the only thanks given. I’ll strive to say grace at all times, in my work and even in trials. I’ll aspire to give thanks, so that my heart may be made receptive to whatever graces God has in store. l will heed His invitations to participate in His continued creative work with a grateful heart.
Sarah Pitts is a dance artist and teacher in Madison, Alabama and blogs about faith, motherhood and the creative process at sarahmakesahomeanddances.
