“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

When McKenzie was little, she had the sweetest little voice and couldn’t pronounce the letters K or G. I have written about this before, but it is a favorite family memory, so it is worth writing about again. Conversations with her would include sentences like this:

“Mommy! Lut at the taterpillar! Do you think he will mate a tozy tattoon?”

“Hannah, tan we doe outside and play hide and doe seet?”

“I want to tuddle with Emily on the touch.”

Things like that. We loved it. Emily does the best impression of that sweet voice, and we all love to relive it together. Or “to-dether” as McTenzie (McKenzie) would say.

And at night, when she would pray with me, she would say, “Dear Dod, Thant you for dis day.”

No matter what the day had looked like, that is how she would start her prayer.

I thought of that the other night when I woke up with Psalm 118:24 in my head: “This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

McKenzie was so dood (good) at being dlad (glad.).

Last weekend was one of the most beautiful, joyful weekends I have experienced in a long time. I hesitate to even write that because I know there has been so much grief, sadness, anxiety and hardship during this strange quarantine season of life.  

And yet, it is good to acknowledge gifts of healing and joy and peace too. It feels important.

During moments like that, it feels easier to sing Psalm 118:24 at the top of my lungs.

This past week however was filled with deep sorrow and loss for several people I know and love, and I have felt the weight of grief deeply. One heartbreaking story after another. Loss that is difficult to understand and process. Loss that feels like a kick in the gut and takes your breath away. Loss that isn’t solved with easy answers and leaves me feeling helpless, weary and unsure of what to do.

But I kept hearing that verse in my head. So much so that I finally had to pray aloud and say, “Lord, I have no idea how to be glad and rejoice in this day. I don’t understand what it means to acknowledge that you made a day with so much loss and pain. You have to help me. Please.”

I want to be thankful regardless of circumstances, but it’s hard, isn’t it?

As I wrestled with the Lord, a text popped up on my phone from a college friend. She wanted to share with a few of us a story from her day as a healthcare worker. She works as a physical therapist and that day she had seen her first COVID 19 positive patient at an assisted living facility. He was 75 years old; Because of a massive stroke ten years ago, he needed constant help and assistance. He tested positive two weeks ago, spent ten days in the hospital on oxygen and even though he seemed to have recovered, he was still testing positive for the virus.

My friend, covered in protective gear, entered the room tentatively, fighting her anxiety. As soon as he saw her, a huge smiled filled his face, and he immediately offered her his appreciation for helping him. He shared his story with her. Told her that his son wasn’t allowed to visit anymore and that whenever he pushed the call button, the workers told him that unless he had fallen, they weren’t allowed to help him. My friend looked at him and said, “Well, I am here to help you get stronger, so you won’t have to push your call button so much.”

He smiled again and spent the next several minutes just expressing his gratitude.

When my friend finished the session and started to walk out the door, the man called her name. She turned around and he asked, “It has been over two months since I have seen a smile. Any chance you could lower your mask so I can see one?”

My friend, 15 feet away, reached inside her shield and lowered her mask. And shared a smile with her new friend. And it was a gift for both of them.

She shared that she had gone in feeling so anxious, but that his gratitude changed her.

He is alone, disabled from a stroke, unable to see his family and most likely in a lot of pain. And yet he was still grateful.

And maybe that is the message in the verse that has been playing over and over again in my head. Gratitude matters. It isn’t fluff or fake, and it isn’t inauthentic. It is a brave acknowledgement of the mystery of suffering and pain, while holding onto hope and reminding each other that we are not alone. That this is not the end of the story and that there are gifts even in the midst of deep loss. May we continue to remind each other of this truth.

I want to end today by thanking my friend for making a difference in someone’s life. Thank you for being brave and for serving during a really uncertain time. I know you helped that patient to be stronger physically, but you also made him stronger in his soul. You entered his loneliness with your kind presence. Thank you to all of the healthcare workers who are setting aside their own safety to be a comforting presence to so many right now. You are brave and we are grateful. On this day that the Lord has made, I rejoice and give thanks for all the ways you remind me of love and hope.