Relieve The Hell Inside Your Mind — By Becoming Grateful

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Unsplash photo by Nathan Dumlao.

(OPINION) This being the season for giving thanks (as well as eating lots of turkey), it might behoove each of us to set aside a few minutes to give ourselves an attitude checkup.

All of us have been through a lot the past few years: a pandemic, insane political upheavals, inflation, general economic uncertainty. People are mad, dejected and scared. It’s easy to fall into a funk and tempting to stay there.

The problems we face are real, no question about that. But it’s also easy for us to overblow them, to obsess over the negatives and fail to recognize the positives.

As I’ve written before, I started off my adulthood behind the eight-ball. Through a series of circumstances — some self-inflicted, some not — I didn’t land my first grown-up job until I was over 30. Until then, I was caught in a succession of menial, part-time, temporary gigs that barely put bread on the table.

Finally, I got a full-time position that paid a livable salary, provided health insurance and gave me a modest sense of achievement.

The people I worked for weren’t perfect, because nobody is, but they seemed to care about us grubs at the bottom of the organizational chart. They treated us with what I interpreted as fairness, benevolence and respect.

For the first time ever, I woke up in the mornings looking forward to going to work. After what I’d endured, the place was virtually a nirvana.

So imagine my surprise as I gradually discovered some of my co-workers considered the place a Dickensian hellhole and our bosses tyrants. No matter how things went, it made these folks mad. No matter how innocuous a supervisor’s comment, they took it as an insult.

I had myself an epiphany on that job that has come back to me other times in subsequent jobs: There’s no situation so good some sorehead can’t hate it. Some people are dead set on being miserable and making those around them miserable.

In John Milton’s 1667 classic “Paradise Lost,” the character Satan says, “The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.”

Amen, Brother Milton.

Again, I’m not implying that all experience is subjective. There really are horrific bosses and bad places to work — I’ve experienced both. Pandemics are real and dangerous. Your spouse really might be abusive. A few political leaders do turn out to be autocrats.

The catch is, a lot of our experiences — probably the majority of them — are more subjective than objective. It’s not the nuts and bolts of what’s going on that matters nearly as much as how we process what’s going on.

That brings us back to the Thanksgiving season. I hate to bust all scriptural on you here, but there there’s a verse in the New Testament I try my imperfect best to live up to: “In everything give thanks,” it says.

This doesn’t mean we should be thankful for each circumstance we face. I’m decidedly not thankful COVID-19 came along, say, or that I have diabetes. Not even a little bit.

What the verse means to me is that within almost every circumstance, good or bad, we can find something for which to give thanks.

For 12 years, I owned and ran two apartment complexes, 20 apartments in all. I’ve never been less suited for any endeavor. It was one debacle after the next. I struggled to find anything redeeming about it. I gave thanks that none of my tenants had burned the places down — until a tenant accidentally touched off a major fire in a four-unit building.

Eventually, I was able to sell those apartments. And now, anytime I’m having a bad day at home or church or with my writing, whatever, all I have to do is get in my car and drive past those apartment buildings.

Upon seeing them, I pretty much erupt into a one-man Pentecostal camp meeting.

“Hallelujah!” I cry. “Thank you, Jesus, that I don’t own those apartments!”

Whatever problem I’m having at the moment pales; it’s nothing compared to what I’ve come through.

If an issue arises with my diabetes, of course I redouble my efforts to stay on my diet and exercise regularly. But I also thank God that, so far, I haven’t had serious complications. I can still see. I still have two legs to walk on. Things could be worse.

If you’re having an awful day at the office, even if you can’t find one thing redeeming about that co-worker who drives you insane, you can be thankful that at 5 p.m. you get to go home, sack out on the sofa in your sweatpants and watch a Christmas movie with your kids. Thank God for that. Thank God you have a job that paid for your sofa and TV.

Giving thanks in everything isn’t about denying reality. It’s not about trying to pretend horrible things are actually good. Nobody’s saying that.

But it does help relieve all those hells we create in our minds, to paraphrase Milton. Sometimes what we need most is to pause and remember how much there still is to be grateful for.

Paul Prather has been a rural Pentecostal pastor in Kentucky for more than 40 years. Also a journalist, he was the Lexington Herald-Leader’s staff religion writer in the 1990s, before leaving to devote his full time to the ministry. He’s the author of four books. You can email him at pratpd@yahoo.com.