Fuzzy Socks

Every year at about this time, people come up with lists of “Things For Which I Am Thankful.” Some lists are elaborate. Some are short. Some are earnest; others are tongue-in-cheek– “Thanks for nothing.”

A few years back, one of my former students started posting on Facebook about her “thanks” list. She started on November first and listed one thing for every day of the month. I liked the idea, so I began doing the same. I’ve done it for a few years now. It’s not really difficult to find things to be thankful for– but it can be frustrating trying to come up with 30 different things that don’t end up overlapping or repeating. I could list individual family members on different days, but if I’ve already listed “Family” or “Grandkids” (as I did this year), it seems repetitive to list them separately. Also, what if I list some family members and leave others out? Won’t someone be hurt?

I began to realize, as well, that posting every day can become somewhat self-indulgent. What about those who are alone in the world? My rhapsodizing about family, good food, good health– isn’t that really just a subtle way of bragging about my blessings? The real goal of Thanksgiving shouldn’t be about WHAT, but about WHO? WHO is the source of all these blessings? WHO deserves to be thanked for any of the wonderful people, things, and situations in my life?

In the middle of all this second-guessing and self-righteous reflection one year, I was suddenly struck with a strange and ridiculous thought. I am really thankful for fuzzy socks! I used to run around barefoot every chance I got. But in the past few years, I’ve developed neuropathy in my feet from diabetes. My feet are often numb and cold. They aren’t so painful that I can’t walk, but sometimes the least little thing on the rug or floor can suddenly feel painful to my bare feet. Fuzzy socks are a treasure to me. They keep my feet warm, and cushion against some of the tiny antagonists– the pile of the carpet, the mote of dust on the floor, or the early morning temperature of the bathroom tile.

And it hit me. Thanksgiving is not just about the “important” things in life– though it’s wonderful to take the time to evaluate how much God has given me, and how many “big” things I often take for granted. But Thanksgiving is also about the little things– like fuzzy socks– that touch our lives. God cares about my neuropathy. He cares about my likes and dislikes, my comforts and my aches and pains.

And Thanksgiving is not just about “fun” or “pleasant” things. I am thankful for the times when God has disciplined me; when I have had to struggle to find the answers, when I have had to ask for help. I am thankful that God is with me in every situation. I am grateful to remember how much He REALLY cares about me. And in remembering all this, I want to share with as many people as I can reach how truly thank-full we ALL can be for the Love, Mercy, and Grace that is showered on us by God every day. Even when we are not aware; even when it involves something as simple as “fuzzy socks.”

So, I still post about 30 things every November. I discuss my thankfulness for family and friends, for vision and mobility, for a roof over my head, and for transportation, and the freedom to come and go. I list “Godly” things like prayer and my Bible or my Church. But I also list “fuzzy socks.” And pizza, and crossword puzzles, bird song, snowflakes, and books. Such things truly make me grateful.