Learning Gratitude

at 3am

Scripture Reading: 1 Thessalonians 5:12-22

3 AM and wide awake is not what I wished for. I had prayed for sleep. I got that. Just not enough. My biological systems hadn’t adjusted. It was, after all, 3 PM back home. It was as if my body was questioning, “What are you doing wasting the better part of the day in bed?” Unwilling to accept that my eyes and mind were protesting that it was dark and night, every member of my corporeal frame, those two reasonable members, demanded I rise and get to doing. 

So mind and eyes being outvoted gave in to the mob and I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. Shuffling my way across the marble floor, trying to avoid a toe to furniture collision, I felt around for the light and switched it on. The electricity had remained on all night, not something one can count on over here. The upshot of that is the ceiling fan kept air moving which held the tiny mosquitoes at bay.

Working fans. For that I was thankful.

The bathroom door creaked open with some persuasion. The bathroom was what I would call an all-in-one kind of space. A toilet, a bucket, a dipper, and a faucet that stuck out from the cement wall. With a few twists of the handle, a light stream of water began to fill the artic blue plastic pail. It’s a slow process so I sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up where I left off the previous night reading “Peace Like a River,” a novel Monica gave me for this trip.

The water heater, not an electric or gas tank or tankless type, but think more in terms of a giant size teacup heater, was perched on a built-in marble shelf over the toilet. A black cord that dangled from a switch box, which was in turn suspended by another cord that was plugged into a receptacle box higher up the wall supplied the power to the immersion heater.  I pulled it down and hung it on the side of the bucket, extending the business end deep into the water.

Thinking it was best not to do this while not standing on a wet floor, I stepped outside the bathroom and reached for the switch to turn the water heater on. Looking down I saw the red-light that indicated the power was on, having traveled from the switch, through the cables, and down to the coiled metal, heating it and then the water into which it was submerged. I sat back down and started reading the book again.

Through experience, I learned what I should have realized through common sense and seventh-grade science class. Heat rises. Therefore, when you prepare washing water this way you have to interrupt the heating process occasionally and stir the water. If you don’t the first part of the washing will be hot because you are drawing water from the top of the bucket, but it quickly moves from hot, to warm and finally really cold as you move down through the bucket. If you like to wash with consistently warm water, and I do, an occasional stir is needed.

I should also mention that one is wise to turn off the power before you stick your hand in the bucket to stir the water. One of those other little details I learned by experience when the experience wasn’t the best teacher.

Once the water was sufficiently warmed, I began washing. My method consists of a dipper of water poured over the head, followed by shampooing, then more pouring, then a thorough body washing, and finally lots of dipping and pouring until I’m fully rinsed off.

This is a process I have perfected, as far as such a thing can be perfected, through years of trial and error. The water warming part hasn’t always been a part of the process. For many years unheated water was the only option. That made the process much faster but far less pleasant. Discovering ways to heat the water has been a more recent development.

A warm shower. For that I was thankful.

Post bathing, I did the kind things one normally does. Drying, deodorizing, combing, clothing. Once I was reassembled in a presentable fashion I headed to the kitchen. Thanks to John Kelsey, I discovered the art of pour-over coffee making. It dawned on me a while back I could pack a pour-over cup, some coffee, and filters and have the pleasure of real coffee during my time overseas. While I had to use pre-ground coffee, it was still a far sight better than the instant coffee I typically drink in these circumstances.

Real coffee. For that I was thankful.

It seems to be a paradox of human nature that the more we have - the more food that sits in our pantries, the more conveniences at our fingertips, air conditioners and water heaters, comfortable cars and closets full of clothes – the less thankful we become. Conversely, when those things are lacking, we are grateful for any small experience of them.

When I’m home I don’t often give thanks for the warm water that instantly and freely flows from the showerhead or the regular morning cup of coffee or consistent and regular electric service. I confess I expect these things and the only emotional reaction I ever have is shock or frustration if they are missing. Thankful? Not really.

That’s something I’m working on.