By Tuesday evening, going up the hill to the jazz band concert with Caleb after having actually managed a creative and nutritious dinner ON TIME for the whole family, I thought, someone is praying, and why do I ever worry?
Which was, of course, a short-lived triumph. Because that grace-cloud did not last very long. In the last 24 hours, life settled back a little towards normal. That beautiful call schedule, it turns out, had to be totally changed when other doctors objected to being on call Christmas, so now Scott and I are (though we're working out a way to share so others take Christmas Eve and Boxing Day). Internet issues slowed me down, went to watch soccer scrimmage and ended up with a student with a broken arm, fighting general single-parent tiredness, one kid forgot to turn in homework, another bombed a test, finals-week edginess as everyone struggles to get things finished.
Yes, my thankfulness is very fickle. Just like the Israelites. God might part the Red Sea one day, but the next I'm ready to complain about food. A 24 hour stretch of an amazing series of things-going-right is quickly forgotten when I get back to a normal day. You'd think I would be on a faith high over that senatorial nomination for weeks, instead of worrying about the next nomination or application.
I suppose I'm learning that thankfulness is a daily discipline. Like manna, one day's does not spill over to the next. I think that a "series of fortunate events" will inspire me towards perpetual thanks, but it doesn't. I have to be thankful again the next day, and the next, even when (especially when) the circumstances are less ideal. Perhaps if days of triumph worked thankfulness in us, God would give us more, but He knows that we haven't changed in several thousand years, and no matter how richly He blesses us we still have to be prodded towards thankfulness.
But I'm still grateful for whoever prayed, and would welcome you to do so again.