Scorched Earth Reclaimed

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY SIX

Well, on Sunday I started out this week wondering how in the world I could muster the mindset to think about Thanksgiving. How I could make room for gratitude in my heart and mind. Now that I’m midway through this annual 12-day experiment, I can’t imagine what made my heart so reluctant. This week I’ve come from a heart struggling to silence the echo of emptiness to one that is practically bursting with blessing.

It’s been quite an unexpected week.

Some of this change of spirit has come from consciously drawing my attention to blessing. When that happens, it’s pretty easy to see how gratitude could consume me. Blessings are just so good. And when I suddenly open my eyes to how many of them there are in my little life, that little life becomes so much bigger. Yes, paying attention is a pretty effective way to up the gratitude quotient.

But this week it’s more than that. This week some things have happened that unexpectedly brought that idea of reclamation from Monday’s post into much broader focus than the Pile allowed.

Scorched earth. It’s disappointing. It’s intimidating. And it’s deceptive. Some situations just give us the feeling there is no turning back. That despite our best efforts, this ground won’t produce again. And then there are those moments that let us see more clearly. That let us see that what seemed scorched earth is actually meticulously plowed and tilled and ready for new growth.

I recognized two of those situations this week. A business relationship seemed lost to opportunity, producing confusion, disappointment and questioning. A financial struggle seemed an insurmountable mountain to scale, producing frustration, worry and resignation. Both looked like scorched earth. But this week I saw both situations reclaimed. And I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the incredible impact of small steps.

Small steps seem like going nowhere sometimes — a vicious process of one step forward and two steps backward. Progress is so hard to discern that stopping seems to be the logical choice. But the blessings of small steps and small things and small choices sneak up on those seemingly scorched situations. They till the ground for new opportunities in slow and simple ways so that it is ready for the seeds that invariably come.

Small acts of responsibility like paying debts quickly — whether financial or emotional. Small acts of humility like taking the high road — resisting the urge to say “I told you so” or assign blame. Small acts of compassion like extending an undeserved blessing — choosing ways in what we speak or do to say “I wish you well.” Being intentional in those small areas can seem a futile investment when the earth looks barren. This week I saw the re-seeding of some of those barren plots. I’m blessed. And I’m grateful.