I had a rather lousy day today when it was supposed to be joyful. A day of paradoxes. There was a ceremony I had decided to participate in though I had had a feeling that the person I was there for would do everything to make me feel unwelcome. And she did. Simply because of too much pride and messed up priorities. Because of rebelious youth and too little love.
I’ve discovered that love is a thing one learns. Love contains pain and patience and resilience and many tears: liquid ones and solid ones, literal ones and invisible ones. When young, we mistake passion and smiles and kisses and hugs for all that love is. We do not see the hidden part of the iceberg. We do not get why mom is mad and dad is disappointed if we put ourselves in danger or we simply misbehave. We see our courage only, we trust our eternal health. We disobey rules and then ask for comfort and then disobey the rules again. How stupid is that? “I’m tired” is something we can solve with a 12 hour sleep or even less – and “just let me sleep” has the sound of a bark, not the faint plea we’ll make much later on. We keep being children for much longer than we like to admit.
And so today, as I was trying to make sense of the inexplicable abominable behaviour of the dear person in question, I suddenly had this sense of peace and profound mysterious understanding that, precisely because I was not receiving thanks or gratitude, I found myself not grateful enough. That I am good enough to exist as I am, yes – but not grateful enough. (For there is a difference, and a big one it is.) That no matter what I will do and how much I would love, I cannot love like God. This reminded me of a beautiful quote I once read somewhere, and I forget the source: “The greatest saint’s love for God does not compare to God’s love for the greatest sinner.”
And so tonight I am willingly grateful. For everything. In my freedom of choice which God has bestowed upon my spirit at birth, I decide to be grateful. For the good, the bad and the ugly, for all the harsh lessons, for every single smile and encouragement I’ve received in my life so far, for the doors that got shut and the windows which opened, for my health and that of my family, for the terrible teachers I’ve had who have truly enhanced my appreciation of the good teachers, for family and friends, for fights and make ups, for failures and successes… for who God shaped me to be, most of the times against my will.
I love you so much, Lord… I do. There are no words. But You know. And in your infinite love and perfect understanding, You Who sees into the depth of my heart, will accept this imperfect plea for forgiveness and my gratitude for this life of mine.
There’s one more little feeling that I have tonight – that gratitude and love are entwined in this ball of light which is all that survives death. Quite literally.