When sorrows like sea billows roll…

the verse from the old hymn made me grip the back of the seat at church.

I thought of the wave of sorrows I have known the past year-loving Maureen, losing her family members, letting God build a house, living a life with one foot here, the other there. Equally, I’ve experienced the most profound joy I’ve ever known.

But now, it’s the new sorrow that each of our Mercy House girls carries from abuse, neglect, threatening to destroy them.

Some days, I don’t want to read the emails from Africa or wait for the ping of Skype. It’s not because I don’t long for Maureen, them. It’s simply because I’m afraid.

If I’ve learned anything in this wild God-journey, building a maternity home in Africa, it’s to expect the unexpected. And sometimes I’m scared the problem will be too big.

I’m afraid I won’t have answers for staff asking questions-hard ones about 10 year old girls being raped by step-dads and wondering if we have enough money for outpatient hospital care for one of our unstable girls and…..

I struggle because I don’t have the answers. Not even one.

I know too much. Imagine the worst situation for a young girl in Kenya-the worst. (Hunger. Prostitution. Rape. Incest?) Now double it, triple it. I’ve learned of things I cannot even imagine.

Some days, knowing so much is too much to handle.

And the sorrow like sea billows roll….

I sat on the dark beach, illuminated only by moon, and whisper-cried to Ann a few weeks ago how heavy the burden is some days. And even on days, it’s lighter, the guilt presses in. Do we buy a new sofa because ours stinks (literally smells)? Or do we make do because we have so much and know those with so little. She grasped my hand, tears glistening in the moonlight and I knew she knew.

I’ve never lost a parent or a child. I haven’t know physical abuse or neglect. I was raised in middle-class America, braces on my teeth, degree in my pocket. I live a comfy American life, and most days, I’m the wrong person for the job.

But then He reminds me, in the way only God can, you said yes. It is enough.

I don’t need you to fix the problems or offer solutions. I need you to trust and let me move.

And I find my way back to the place where I need Him.

Every hour. I need Him.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

——————————-

I know that we face periods of sorrow in our lives-sick children, aging parents, financial crisis. Moments when we just need Him.

How can we bear each other’s burdens today?

It’s the one thing I long for my family to learn, live:

Gratitude.

It’s the one thing I teach by example (or lack 0f), a heart full of thanksgiving, overflowing on my husband, surrounding my children. They are watching, waiting. Not just for the outward, polite, mandatory “thank you.” But the grateful heart that spills out and is contagious.

It’s not just the gratefulness for new things, a comforter on sale for my daughter’s bed brings praise, “thank you, Mom!” It’s thankfulness in the trials, the hard times, the difficult spots we find ourselves. These are the moments that define us: digging deep when gratitude isn’t easy.

Thankfulness isn’t inherited. It often doesn’t come easy. It needs to be practiced, made a priority.

We are counting to a thousand in our house, one thousand thanks to Him.

Each night after our dinner routine, we pull out pen and our Family Gratitude Journal. It’s lovely and leads us into deep, fun conversations.

This past week, we talked about Sara and her choice to choose joy in all circumstances. She has been in our prayers, this far-away, (in)courage writer-friend of mine, who passed away after her fight with a debilitating illness. She left a legacy of thankfulness, which is really about finding the joy in every situation.

My kids asked a couple of hard questions. The kind I don’t have answers for. But we look for the good even when it feels bad.

My kids bring a pen to the table, offer their answers to questions like, “What’s your favorite thing about our house?” and “What makes you laugh?” and then we take turns around the table giving thanks. “Today, I’m thankful for…”

Sometimes the answer is silly (my 4 year old answered “Facebook” the other night to a hysterical family. What??) and sometimes they take my breath away. Like last night when my oldest said she was thankful, truly grateful for something I’d done for her. It hadn’t gone unnoticed and her thankful heart made me smile.

How to Stir Up Thanksgiving in Your Family:

• Record your gratitude
• Read past entries aloud
• Reflect on the day, the good and bad
• Reinforce-nothing is too small
• Resolve to give thanks, in all things

I was gifted a Family Gratitude Journal (from Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts) by (in)Courage. Although they aren’t available for giveaways, I bought one to share with one of you, today!

1000 GIFTS GRATITUDE JOURNAL

Thank you Lord for… hands of friendship, God our Father, and the Way into Joy. With 1,000 numbered spaces, this robin egg blue journal with a closing strap provides a special way for your family to keep track of God’s gifts to you. The pages are filled with Scriptures, inspirational photos, and conversation starters so you can continue to keep track of the memories your family makes together. Measures 8 3⁄8″×1 3⁄8″×8″ Pockets are built in to many pages for keeping precious notes, photos, and other keepsakes.

If you’d like to win, please tell me something you’re thankful for in the comments.

(You can also purchase one for $24.)

So, choose it: joy. And by doing so, you’ll be teaching your family the greatest gift of all-gratitude.