The Practice of Gratitude

As most of you are aware, I lost my husband last September and my mother this September. Leading up to this were many years of me serving as a caregiver. The sudden absence of this role has left a gaping hole in my daily schedule and my sense of who I am. 

​I cannot admit to having done the last twenty years perfectly. At 

Deborah Rambo Sinn

times, I was beaten down and exhausted, and let things slide and fall off my “to-do list.” Caregivers know this cycle and often feel defeated and guilty. I tried and often failed to give myself grace that matched the grace given to me by my own family. It is ok not to do things perfectly amidst the thousand-decision days that feel like life and death, but it took me until sometime last year to understand that—even a little bit.

What kept me going and (mostly) buoyant? I am not sure of all the ingredients of this, but my practice of gratitude was one of the main ones. I still start each day this way. I am grateful for the profound love that I had from Jerry and my mom, Terry. I am grateful that I have friends who care and check in on me. I am grateful for the help of the doctors and nurses, and orderlies during the many hospital visits. I am grateful for hospice care. I am grateful for my beautiful church family who hugged us all up and loved us all the time. I am grateful for the immensity of a God who holds my hands and my heart throughout the difficult days. I am grateful for the abundance in my life. I am grateful for the new love that has come my way. 

It has been a time for me to hibernate and process grief, but I hope I will soon be able to move forward and be a source of help and empathy for those who will suffer loss. Grief is tough, but its brokenness has met its match. As Christians, we take our tattered edges and turn to care for each other. In this, there is enduring hope.

“Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, just as you also are doing”
1 Thessalonians 5:11

In His Name, Deborah