S.O.S.

Psalm 107:6 -- " 'Lord, help!' they cried in their trouble, and he rescued them from their distress."

There is something quite romantic about baring witness to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Whether the dragon be slayed by our dashing hero's sword, or our bookworm outsmarts the villain and gets a kiss from the girl for once in his scholarly life - we cheer. Good wins. Evil is done. There is joy in the victory and we rest our tired heads on soft comfortable pillows when we sleep, knowing that in Fairy Tale land, all is well, once more. We can sigh deeply into a relaxed grin as our handsome charge sets off into the sunset on the strength of his magnificent steed with his rescued safely riding in his lap.

Squarely back in our own world, perhaps the victory is in the NEED for the rescue itself.

Charles Spurgeon once wrote: "There is no greater mercy that I know of on earth than good health - except it be sickness; and that has often been a greater mercy to me than health....It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it."

For sure, when trouble blows in full steam and wreaks havoc on our warm and cozy calm we may not see the grace of it, the beauty of it -- the need for it. Clinging tightly to a slippery life-preserver as giant waves crash about our heads, in desperate hope that the next breath won't be our last, it is often difficult to see what strength we might gain from the panicked dog-paddling. Only with warm, scruffy blankets snugly wrapped about us and with steam from tea, nice and hot wisping about our shivering faces have we the strength to thank our knights in shiny Coast Guard. And for this, I think Spurgeon had it right. Do we really value and appreciate the grace and mercy so freely given us if we have no knowledge of what death and pain await us without them?

More to the point - in that glorious moment when our sea-battered vision quietly meets eye to eye with our rescuers we breath deep air un-laced with brine and burning wind - we have been granted a truly thankful heart.

In perfect pitch and earnest tones, Twila Paris once sang "thank you for this thorn imbedded in my flesh" - echoing the prayers of Paul when in anguish he laments over an un-named trouble. Reading Psalm 107:6 brought me back to those soul purging words. I am reminded to embrace thankfulness.

My mother once said that in order to make a thing a habit - one must achieve it no fewer than thirty times. Thirty times I floss my teeth before brushing them because a dentist told me the wax on dental floss can cause tooth decay. Thirty times I  place my empty coffee cup in the dish washer instead of setting it in the sink. Thirty times I take a minute to wipe the bathroom counter after I put on my make-up. And - thirty times, as I open my eyes to the brilliance of a fresh morning - I thank God that He has granted me this day, whatever troubles might lay in wait amongst its shadows.

Unfamiliar with the works of the famed theologian and editor, J.R. Miller until just recently, I came upon something he said about thankfulness: "Christian thanksgiving is the life of Christ in the heart -- transforming the disposition and the whole character. Thanksgiving must be wrought into the life and HABIT -- before it can become a fixed and permanent quality. An occasional burst of praise, in the midst of years of complaining, is not what is required. Songs on rare, sunshiny days; and no songs when skies are cloudy -- will not make a life of gratitude. The heart must learn to sing ALWAYS....thanksgiving has attained its rightful place in us, only when it is part of all our days and dominates all our experiences."

I designate a nearly empty journal collecting dust bunnies on a shelf to be a new thing. To hold within it's pages - gratitude. In every circumstance I find myself about to complain, about to point out another frustration or disappointment - I will - more than thirty times - pen a word of thankfulness. Document the abundant grace of the Lord and count the endless ways that: as I cry out HELP, LORD! - he gently and graciously comes to my rescue.