Sliding Doors

In this ROUGH season, “Sliding Door” moments birth gratitude…

I can’t tell you the last (and only) time I saw the movie “Sliding Doors”. It’s been at least a decade, but recent moments have brought that movie to mind. The overall concept of how a single moment can change one’s life. And with that sobering realization, I’ve been filled with gratitude.

Without going into too much gruesome detail, this has been a B.R.U.T.A.L season for our family. Most days feel like hanging on by a thread. Surviving, not thriving.

Nathan has described the psychological feeling of having our faces dragged along concrete. I liken it to feeling like a living crash-test dummy… Hitting that wall. Hard and fast.

Having the energy to be good parents, less reactivity, putting in therapeutic work, and just trying to take care of ourselves, our work, our responsibilities… It is hella stacking up, and even entertaining the notion having a spirit of gratitude feels like an unattainable pipedream.

In truth, as Christians, tenuously white-knuckling through overwhelming seasons like this can absolutely make it feel as though God has turned His face from us. But, after August 2nd, I’m struck by how fragile this all is. How sovereign my God is. How His hand of protection is over my family.

Big picture: I CAN have a spirit of gratitude knowing that He is in control and that my family is safe.

Gratitude for Grandmas

So, what was the catalyst for this eruption of gratitude? My reckless toddler daughter, Nova, nearly killing herself. What else?

Our favorite park was (and still is) Morningside Park. It has been the one local park small-scale enough that I could confidently go with two toddlers in tow and GENERALLY not have to worry. This day in particular, though, would challenge that assertion.

Understand… Nova is bold. Fearless. Agile. At two years old, she scales playground climbing rock structures meant for 5+ year olds. So, off she goes to ascend this pseudo-boulder, intending to go down a slide that leaves Orson cowering in terror. She’s done this countless times before.

Over and over, she free climbs up to the tower tube slide. No biggie. I’m trying to encourage timid, OCD Orson just to climb through a tunnel that leads to same said tower.

As it so happens, a grandma is there with her 18-month old grandson, whom I will affectionately dub “Lemming“. Why? Because moments before my own daughter tries to off herself, little Lemming nearly walks off a ledge beside me. Not today, Lemming. I reach out and catch him as his grandma comes rushing over.

Mere moments later, the mythological Lemming mentality infects my daughter. I glimpse over as she nearly falls face first from the top of this rock facade. I gasp “Oh my God” as I see her catch herself (by some miracle) and hang on to a bar for dear life…

Little Lemming’s grandma, conveniently nearby, was able to save the day and gave Nova a boost up.

Close Enough

But it was so close. One of those moments where you’re close enough to taste it. The consequence of a moment. The helpless, bitter heaviness of grievous loss. The way she was hanging on…

Likely what would have happened, had it not been for Lemming’s grandma, was she would have fallen backward when her grip gave out before I could catch her. Where I was standing, I don’t think I would’ve made it to her in time. She likely would’ve landed on her neck, if not her head.

Best case, broken neck. Lifelong paralysis. Or maybe just a skull fracture. Couple other broken bones to boot. Worst case… I don’t want to think about worst case. But I was close enough to seeing worst case play out that I could viscerally feel worst case.

It feels like a thousand times a day, we miss death by degrees. Just a few days prior to the Morningside event with Nova, I started to slip in the shower. Nearly biffed it, but was able to catch myself. But even then, I felt how close, how fragile, how quickly life could end. Even in such pointless ways.

Slip, fall the wrong way in the shower? Die. Fall off playground equipment the wrong way? Die. I can laugh it off when I’m clumsy. But feeling how close Nova was? Holding on to that bar and crying out in desperate fear…

I processed it in waves for the rest of the day, and by that evening, I was dropping to my knees in the shower for reasons other than clumsiness. Praising God with gratitude in my heart for His protection and provision.

Taking Gratitude for Granted

Man, that’s always the way, though, isn’t it? Especially when you’ve been stuck in survival mode for so long, all you can dream of is escape. And for someone like me, feeling trapped in that endless rut coaxes me toward dissociation.

It takes my daughter nearly dying to shake me out of this numbness and burn-out. And we humans tend to forget so quickly, too, when an event like this takes place. Like goldfish. One minute, I’m on my knees praying to God, expressing how insufficient my gratitude is.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. My daughter is alive…“

What seems like a mere moment later, I’m annoyed at her whining. I’m putting toys in “Toy Jail” when another sibling fight over them has ensued. Wiping Orson’s dirty butt after yet another poopy pull-up. Nathan and I are exasperatedly bickering over how to parent the teenager…

And Nathan’s stuck working endless crunch and overtime on top of it all.

My fickle heart of gratitude feels so frail… But I’m still thankful for the shake-down. I’m thankful that reasons and events that spark gratitude aren’t entirely lost on me. I strive to recognize more of them. Big, like dodging death… Or small, like this glass of wine I’m enjoying.

Maybe it doesn’t quite scratch the itch like escape or literal vacation would; but guys, it makes the day to day survivable. And in practicing gratitude, it gets easier to have thanks in my heart at the end of an infinitely long day or workweek, or even IN THE MIDST of a torturous season like this one.

It Can Always Be Worse

I think that’s what this gratitude post comes down to: it CAN always be worse. My favorite daughter could be dead. Nathan could be without a job. Our AC could go out in this triple-digit NBTX heatwave. The fact that we even HAVE air conditioning… I mean, what a LUXURY, right?

For as easy as it is to find things to complain about, take half a beat and realize how effortless gratitude can be. Yes, the spirit of thanks slips away quickly… But it can take so little to claw it back.

I’m thankful for my healthy children, my selfless and hard-working husband, this roof over our heads. I’m filled with gratitude that we do have future plans for a dream vacation (even if it’s still a year away). And a big AMEN that I’m not still working as an RN.

The fact that we are driven and responsible… We take care of our family and ourselves well. We’re able to afford healthcare, mental and otherwise.

And Nathan and I have grown so much. Again, I’m thankful for the reminder to have a heart of gratitude. But going forward, I want to consider this a lesson learned. I want to strive for consistency in my gratitude and model that thankfulness for my kids.

I want to live out 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”