Thou that hast giv’n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart.
See how thy beggar works on thee
By art.
He makes thy gifts occasion more,
And says, If he in this be crossed,
All thou hast giv’n him heretofore
Is lost.
But thou didst reckon, when at first
Thy word our hearts and hands did crave,
What it would come to at the worst
To save.
Perpetual knockings at thy door,
Tears sullying thy transparent rooms,
Gift upon gift, much would have more,
And comes.
This not withstanding, thou wentst on,
And didst allow us all our noise:
Nay thou hast made a sigh and groan
Thy joys.
Not that thou hast not still above
Much better tunes, than groans can make;
But that these country-airs thy love
Did take.
Wherefore I cry, and cry again;
And in no quiet canst thou be,
Till I a thankful heart obtain
Of thee:
Not thankful, when it pleaseth me;
As if thy blessings had spare days:
But such a heart, whose pulse may be
Thy praise.
- "Gratefulness" George Herbert, 1593-1633
I recently pondered, "If I owe God (and others) thanks for everything I enjoy that I haven't put together with my own hands, what would be included in my thanksgiving list?"
Well, pretty much everything.
At this moment, I'm working on my laptop, an incredible device put together by literally thousands who mined the raw material and transported the various components from all over the globe. It was designed and engineered with an untold number of intricate parts that make it do amazing and near magical things. It utilizes programmed software that I rely on for gathering information, communicating with people from all over and producing written material as I'm doing at this moment.
Neither the chair, desk or any other pieces of furniture in the room are of my own making, and each is likewise made of components that come from all over. Hundreds of human beings have been involved in creating all of the furnishing in the house, the clock and the pictures on the wall, the carpet on the floor, and all of the floors and walls and windows and doors that make up the house itself.
The food items in our refrigerator and cupboards have been produced and transported by millions around the globe, and packaged and shipped and railed and retailed and brought to our home in a vehicle made up of an amazing array of parts and engineered to operate with remarkable efficiency.
And oh the created life and all the living creatures everywhere! Especially the sight and sound and touch of human ones, beloved wife and sons and daughter, our grandchildren and siblings and family and church family and friends--all precious beyond belief.
That's just the bare beginning of what should go on our thanksgiving lists. I haven't even begun enumerating the many things in the world around us that are spectacular and totally undeserved gifts.
GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
- "Pied Beauty" Gerard Manley Hopkins 1844-89
This Thanksgiving season, let's look around. Take a walk. Begin taking inventory. We'll never do more than scratch the surface.
Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the sky of parchment made
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And ever one a scribe by trade
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky
- "The Love of God" Frederick Martin Lehman 1868-1953
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