The "Good old Days" were not that good - or so I have been told
“The good old days weren’t so good.” That was my grandfather’s response to the impulse to remember the days of old as being better than the present day. Every generation is tempted to allow nostalgia to cover the hardships and brokenness of the past. As a kid, I would listen to the adults talk about how good things used to be and how broken things were becoming. Now I am an adult and often find myself being an enthusiastic participant in similar conversations.
My grandfather used to say that when he was a child, he carried enough water to float a battleship. He grew up in a home that did not have running water, and one of his regular chores was to bring in water for household use. He would say this to communicate how thankful he was for the modern convenience of in-home running water and to encourage me to be thankful for the goodness and convenience of in-home running water. I often imagined what life must have been like for him growing up with chamber pots and an outhouse. I imagined how uncomfortable it must have been on cold and rainy days and how inconvenient and time-consuming taking a bath must have been. But the truth is, I was never able to appreciate household plumbing with as much thanksgiving as my grandfather did.
Be thankful when God says “No”
My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. I enjoy gathering with family, sharing a good meal, and spending the day unencumbered by the regular demands of life. During the Thanksgiving season, we rightly turn our attention to what we are thankful for. When thinking about what we are thankful for, we generally identify things, people, and events that we have received. You might be thankful for a good gift, a good relationship, or an advancement at work. These are certainly worthy of being thankful for, but I think there is something else that we should consider. God certainly blesses and provides by giving good gifts, but He also blesses and provides well by what He says "No" to and what He withholds.
Different eras bring different desires, but the common thread is a desire for what is perceived as better than what you have. When I was a kid, I very much thought that the kids who were growing up in homes that were more affluent than mine had it better. Many of them had parents who were much more accommodating to the desires and wishes of their children. Many of them, though they attended church somewhat regularly, had no problem with spending the weekend at the river or some other activity that seemed so much more exciting than attending Sunday school and worship. I often felt as though the kids who drove nicer cars were more blessed. I was very envious of those who could spend their Sundays skiing while I sat in church. On the issue of church attendance, I employed every argument I could muster to attempt to persuade my parents that missing a Sunday or two would not negatively impact my walk with the Lord. I passionately proclaimed that we were under grace and not under the law. In more desperate moments, I may have even insinuated that my parents were committing the sin of legalism. No matter how passionate I pleaded, their response to my desire to turn my attention away from worship and keeping Sabaoth was “No.” I was not thankful for it then, but the magnitudes of gratitude I feel today are incalculable. There was more grace in what I was not allowed to do than if I had enjoyed the freedoms and provisions I thought were so important.