Jim Govatos: Not enough days to say 'thank you'

If you get around on Facebook at all, you may have noticed that many people are doing "28 Days of Thanks" postings leading up to Thanksgiving Day. I've been tracking some of those and they go all the way from the sublime to the ridiculous. Some of the sublime: "thanks for getting my dad back from Afghanistan," "thanks for friends who stood by me in a time of great need." Some of the ridiculous: "thankful that my designer bag didn't get scuffed," "thankful for my cat being so cute." (I'm a dog person myself.)

There is something in us that wants to speak of gratitude, but often we remain silent. That's too bad. An article in the Harvard Mental Health Letter (tinyurl.com/Harvard-mental-health) outlines how expressing thanks improves physical health. Not only that, it improves relationships.

I think the problem for us is that except for the times when we hit life's jackpots –the birth of a baby, a promotion at work, receiving an inheritance, getting cured of a disease – the things we could be grateful for simply play in the background of life. Instead of being grateful, we take them for granted.

It is far more tempting to focus on the difficult things that interrupt the flow of our happiness: missing a deadline, having a misunderstanding with someone, losing an item. Even if the problems are not large ones, they have a way of capturing our attention. We complain about unfairness and try to manage our way out of the circumstances.

I'm not trying to be Pollyannaish. Bad things do happen in life and they must be confronted. But we can't lose sight of the good things that are playing silently in the background. To do so leads us down the road of despair.

In the history of America, there have been several important Thanksgiving proclamations issued by prominent leaders. The first was by Gov. William Bradford of Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1623, three years after the Pilgrims first landed at Plymouth Rock. In his proclamation, Gov. Bradford thanks God for a bountiful harvest and protection from disease even though the first winter in America claimed the lives of nearly half the settlers.

One of the most poignant proclamations was issued 150 years ago by Abraham Lincoln at the height of the Civil War. He wrote with thankfulness for the increase in population to offset the destruction of the war, for peace with foreign nations even as he conducted the war on American soil, and for economic growth in the midst of a crippling conflict. Lincoln was a realist, not a sentimentalist. He knew the great cost of suffering and was about to begin writing his Gettysburg Address to hallow the national cemetery there. But he was able to put thanksgiving in its place:

"No human counsel hath devised, nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy."

In remembering to let the Thanksgiving playing in the background of the great national tragedy of Civil War, Lincoln was able to call forth hope – hope that the battlefield would not be the last word on life. If you notice Lincoln did not just thank the air, either. He thanked the God he knew would finally lead the country through its great conflict.

Besides all the other health benefits of giving thanks, perhaps the one Lincoln put his finger on is even greater. Thankfulness, when it is rooted in someone greater than ourselves give us hope greater than our circumstances.

So, what am I thankful for?

I don't have a whole 28 days yet, but here's a start:

• My dog, who is ready to play no matter how I feel (cat-lovers eat your hearts out!)

• My family, which provides unconditional love.

• My church family, who walks with me on the adventure of loving our part of Winter Park.

• Jesus Christ, who gave me a new life.

• An interesting and challenging job.

What's in your thanker?