Gratitude Hasn’t Been the Loudest
So I throw up my hands
And praise You again and again
'Cause all that I have is a hallelujah
Hallelujah
Feet first, the sliding table moves through the device that has the power to permit seasons of pain, waiting, trauma, fear, joy, grief, and peace. And those are only a few of the many emotions and implications of any scan that serves the purpose of lighting up inconsistencies.
Automatically, I sing Brandon Lake’s “Gratitude,” following the nurse's instructions to expose my body. I oblige to her request, “Put your hands above your head.”
So I throw up my hands
And praise You again and again
'Cause all that I have is a hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hands go up, praise goes out, and the horror of what could be, flees.
At the moment, I have scans every six months as opposed to three months. Somehow, my six month routine scans can’t be the only time I throw up my hands in surrender and praise my Heavenly Father.
The horror of the unknown must continue to flee.
One of my new favorite podcasters Alisa DiLorenzo puts words to the meaning of gratitude that resonate with me. She alludes to gratitude meaning an awareness of what one has received. I love that her version of gratitude isn’t attached to feeling happy or content. It’s simply an awareness.
One thing I am fully aware of is the shame I felt for knowing the value of gratitude and neglecting its purpose because life hadn’t been peachy. Embarrassed by the grumbling life I was leading, despite God healing my cancer, I refrained from sharing my first published article. The irony of not sharing this piece: it’s simply called, “Make Gratitude the Loudest.”
The non-profit, young adult cancer group Elephants and Tea sent me to Boston to read this article in their Words Matter magazine.
At the event, I didn’t read straight out of the magazine because the print was too tiny. Instead, I had a copy of the article in larger font. When reading my article, I froze not knowing the name of the article I would go on to share.
I was unable to lay hands on “Make Gratitude the Loudest.”
Come to find out that’s exactly what has happened in this season of remission, living amongst the sick, and facing the implications of an emotional, physical, and spiritually taxing, traumatic three years.
Gratitude is missing.
The dichotomy of two worlds is knocking at my door: the good and the bad, the light and the darkness, the mountaintops and valleys, the highs and the lows, good times and traumatic times. I share more on this in my previous blog here.
If gratitude is an awareness or the position of my heart’s ability to notice the good, then surely gratitude can soften my heart and change my outlook. The words of praise on my lips surrender to The Great Orchestrator. The One who is worthy of my praise.
This fall, in more ways than one, I was reminded of the time Jesus healed ten people consumed with leprosy (Luke 17:11-19 NIV). Ten people set free. My attention was drawn not to the healing, but to the person who left Jesus’ presence healed and well. Nine lepers healed. One leper healed, full of faith, and well.
The trajectory of the one leper’s life: well – healthy, strong, shrewd, and advantageous (thanks to a quick Google search).
Lucky for us, the same thing that separated the one leper from the other nine lepers is accessible to us today.
One leper returned to Jesus with a grateful heart of praise. Scripture from the Bible says, “One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, ‘Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, ‘Rise and go; your faith has made you well’” (Luke 17:15-19 NIV).
Praising God unleashes us to not just be aware of what we’ve received, but sets us apart. We become advantageous no matter where our story has landed us.
Whatever uncleanliness, grief, pain, sorrow, or awful circumstance you are facing, God has the power to make you healed and well.
Brandon Lake continues the song declaring,
I've got one response
I've got just one move
With my arm stretched wide
I will worship You
Moving in the valley is a mountain in itself. It is lonely, confusing, dark, and overwhelming. Simply torture.
