Gratitude and Grief

Our pastor believes in celebrations and boy do we celebrate:  A champagne toast for the risen Christ, a Maundy Thursday Seder meal and washing of feet, the consecration of ashes on our foreheads to mark the beginning of Lent, birthdays, old age, children, marriages… all of it gets celebrated and noted at our church.

As you might already know, November is National Children’s Grief Awareness month. It is also the month that many Americans celebrate Thanksgiving. I never thought about the brilliance of celebrating both of these things in the same month until…

Our church celebrated Thanksgiving this week with a communal feast! Everyone brought their signature Thanksgiving side dish and a dessert. Because our pastor is also about fun, we had a dessert contest that includes every sweet that comes through that door. The judges are volunteers of every age and size (mostly children, though). The winner gets the much coveted and kitschy trophy to keep in their homes until next year’s contest. (You are hoping to NOT win!) The fellowship hall is packed to the far corners with people feasting and honoring our little community and our lives together.

I sat and just absorbed the faces, the smells, the pleasure of being together. As people shared what they were thankful for, I felt anointed somehow. I felt like I was receiving a giant hug as people spoke about how grateful they were for what they have found here in this mottled and imperfect crew.

I replayed the evening over the next few days. I was struck by everyone’s stories of gratitude were inextricably linked to a time of deficit. Gratitude was born out of grief in every example. A husband who was grateful for his wife being alive came with the fact that he almost lost her. People were grateful to find friendships and belonging because they had known isolation and loneliness prior to coming to our church. The joy and thankfulness was so much more full BECAUSE of the grief. The stories of gratitude were born out of heartache and loss.

So, this month we can both recognize and honor children’s grief and trust they will be led right into heart of Thanksgiving. Not the fake and syrupy kind, not the platitudes spoken to cover up the pain of loss, but the kind that grows in beautiful soil of grief that naturally produces deep, sincere, and satisfying gratefulness.