The secret of grateful hearts

Here are three contributions I've received this week which I'd like to pass on.  The first is from Ann (to whom I'm also indebted for the seasonal - let's hope! - photo). "We learn to let our neighbour be, just as we learn to let God be. Not to manipulate our neighbour, but rather to reverence him, to reverence his importance, the wonder of his being. In other words, to love him" (John Main).

The second comes from Alice Tremaine's Prayers for Health website.

Gratitude changes everything.

"Time and time again I learn that having a grateful heart really does make all the difference in how we live, how we are able to cope with life's tragedies, and whether we are able to bless others. There have been numerous studies on the positive effects of gratitude to one's mental and physical health. Gratitude is often associated with greater happiness and sense of meaning, and even overall health. 

"I remember the first time my father was hospitalized after being diagnosed with ALS. He had fallen and had developed a blood clot in his brain. I traveled to Brazil (where he lives) to be with him and help care for him during that transition from hospital to home. 

"Those first few days after his hospital discharge were very stressful and difficult. In a short time, my father had suffered significant losses in his ability to care for himself. 

"I remember taking a few moments to be by myself during those difficult days. There was an enormous temptation to feel sorry for myself and for my family; why has this happened? How are we supposed to do this? 

"I realized quickly that, if I were to be any help to my father, I couldn't wallow in self-pity for long. Some lamenting and crying and protesting is normal and probably healthy, but I decided I couldn't let myself stay there. I had to find the small and big things that I could be grateful for, like the good care my father received in the hospital and the fact that I had the chance to spend some meaningful time with him. "Gratitude really does change everything, and there is always something to be grateful for. We just need to look. 

"Verbal prayer: Merciful God, thank you for the gift of Life. Thank you for the beauty of nature, and for the love of family and friends. Help me to have open eyes to see the ways in which you are blessing me, and to offer thanks in every circumstance. Amen." 

And last but by no means least from Leafyschroder. "This prayer of Cardinal Newman's called the 'Fragrance Prayer' means a great deal to me...
Prayer of Blessed John Henry Newman
Dear Jesus
Help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go.
Flood my soul with Thy Spirit and Life.
Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly
That all my life may only be a radiance of Thine.
Shine through me,
And so be in me that every soul I come in contact with
May feel Thy presence in my soul.
Let them look up and see no longer me
But only Jesus.
Stay with me
And then I shall begin to shine
As Thou shinest,
So to shine as to be a light to others;
The light, O Jesus, will be all from Thee;
None of it will be mine;
It will be Thou shining on others through me.
Let me thus praise Thee in the way Thou dost love best
By shining on those around me.
Let me preach Thee without preaching,
Not by words but by my example,
By the catching force of the sympathetic influence
Of what I do,
The evident fullness of the love my heart bears to Thee.
Amen." 

I think Newman was echoing Paul in 2 Corinthians: "Thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumph, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere." Or maybe he's also thinking of Mary of Bethany in John's Gospel, "Mary took a pound of costly ointment of pure nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment." Whichever, they are both a heart response to Jesus' great love for us. May you receive that love tomorrow.

Antidote to anxiety

Soberly speaking, I suppose that nine years ago I didn't expect to have seen yesterday - yet another birthday. When I was diagnosed with "a motor neurone disorder", I foresaw a life of a couple of years ahead of me. After all the average life expectancy from diagnosis with MND is 14 months. However, here I still am, fortunate in having the extremely rare and slow variant and grateful for every new day and every year to enjoy this remarkable world and the life God's given me. It's not always comfortable; it's not, I suppose, what I'd have chosen. I do feel bereaved; I miss my independence; I don't like continually calling on others for help. I often feel frustrated, and, yes, I fall into self-pity. And yet...

Dependence, I'm learning, is a good state. We weren't meant to be alone. We're meant to "bear one another's burdens" - which is an easy principle to subscribe to in good times, reduced to something like lending a sympathetic ear (on occasions, just what's needed of course). The rubber really hits the road, however, when you're confronted with acute need, such as a child born disabled, a parent having a stroke, a wife contracting Parkinsons or MD, or a husband diagnosed with MND or Alzheimers, a friend losing a loved one, or a neighbour losing their job, or an asylum seeker asking for help. And although Jesus said, "It's more blessed to give than to receive," there's a sense in which it's also blessed to give someone else the opportunity to give, to be the reason for another's being blessed - if you see what I mean! I truly believe that to say being dependent is undignified is nothing but a lie. It's the opposite. It's the essence of being human. Even the non-Christian poet, Epimenides (c 600BC), knew that, "In him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17.28).

That's why, in the end, when "all other helpers fail", St Peter urged his readers, "Cast all your cares upon him, for he cares about you" (1 Peter 5.7). It's a great immutable, incomprehensible truth that our Father God ("Papa" as my friend Nicky Temple calls him; "Abba" as Jesus calls him) cares not just about, but for us. And he loves giving us what we need.

Kevin Mayhew

I had a lot of kind messages and cards yesterday - and some nice presents too. One was an impromptu gift. Lynn, a friend from Cambridge days, popped in for tea after a break in the Cotswolds. On learning that it was my birthday she wracked her brain for the nicest thing she had in her car, and came up with a CD of quiet music by Margaret Rizza called Fountain of Life. At the moment my favourite track is based on her setting of words from Psalm 131. The only YouTube version I can find is a very short version: "O Lord, my heart is not proud". If you do that sort of thing (and if you like something more reflective than "There is a day"!), I suggest you download the full version from iTunes. These are the words:

© Ozpics 2011

O Lord, my heart is not proud,
nor haughty my eyes.
I have not gone after things too great,
nor marvels beyond me.
Truly I have set my soul
in silence and peace;
at rest, as a child in its mother's arms,
so is my soul.

I guess that's the place to end up with our self-pity, frustration, confusion and grief.