My sister and her family showed up at my door around 5pm that day, with Christmas gifts and luggage in hand. It was the first time we would be together in Nebraska for the holiday. I was eager to host them on my turf. But there was a wrench in the works. The water heater decided to cease operating about an hour before they arrived.
“Hi Paula, Hi Steve. Make yourself at home. Who wants to go to Home Depot with me?”
Within a few minutes, Steve, my brother in law, and I were on the way to buy a new water heater and see if we could be ready for the 7 additional showers that would be taken during the family visit.
I’m happy to say that within 2 hours, we had hot water again and had a new story to add to the family history.
12/28/07 With Steve’s help.
If you grew up going to church like me, you may have sung the line in this hymn and never understood what it meant.
Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I'm come;
An ebenezer is a symbol that stands as a way of remembering. The Ancients would craft an ebenezer as a memorial, sometimes as simple as a stack of rocks, so that anytime someone in the future would ask what the pile was for, they could recall the story and share it with gratitude.
I recall when the scrapbooking season was in high form, and it did more to deflate my wife’s self-esteem than anything. I was glad to see that era fade away. Mom’s everywhere were going to classes and workshops to learn how to chronicle little Jared’s 3rd grade soccer season in great length and detail, with fragments of his jersey interwoven with a shoestring bow from his little boy cleats. Not to mention, a myriad of photos, all beautiful and in focus. A good idea of creating a keepsake, in some cases, turned into a painful exercise in comparison and self-loathing.
An ebenezer, like scrapbooking, is about remembering, not impressing. It’s a practice I’ve been keeping for some time now. It is ultimately about gratitude and how to refuse the insidious creep of Complaint.
Gratitude is like any form of exercise. It takes effort to get up off the couch and overcome the inertia of Complaint, but once I learn to yield to it, the reward can be enjoyed. Over time, the more I exercise Gratitude, it becomes reflexive. I no longer have to think about it. It flows naturally.
My ebenezers are my continual practice of Gratitude. I was so thankful that Steve and his boys were ready to roll up their sleeves and get to work. Plus, the old unit was full of silt and their strong backs got it up out of the basement smoothly.
Gratitude isn’t difficult. But it does require being intentional.
Make today count.