(Note: This is my annual Thanksgiving psalm.)
Where do I even begin to tell you how grateful I am that you, God of all creation, should stoop to bless my life?
I am deeply humbled, aware of my unworthiness and your great mercy. Thank you seems puny and insufficient, yet it's all I have to give you.
Thank you, Lord, for capri pants and Gerber daisies. For thick, warm towels fresh from the dryer, "two-point" tapioca pudding and pumpkin marmalade.
Thank you for keeping my husband safe through all of his surgeries and procedures this year. Thank you for knitting our hearts together. Thank you for answering my prayers. Thank you for your generous, sustaining grace.
This year I have been stressed and stretched and very, very afraid. But you have calmed my fears. You have cradled me, held me, gripped me tight. You never let me go, not even once. Not even for a moment. Not even when I thought perhaps you had.
Thank you, Lord, that you never let me go!
This year I have pondered the 23rd psalm. How you shepherd, how you provide. How you make me lie down in green pastures and lead me beside still and quiet waters when my natural inclination is to wander into the weeds and thorns and mud.
I don't understand why I fight you. I'm just thankful that you forgive, that you go get me and lovingly lead me back.
Thank you for remaining faithful even when I'm not. Thank you for being mercy and grace. Thank you for your peace when I'm caught in a whirlwind of my own making, your patience with my impatience.
Nothing surprises you, does it? Nothing is out of your control. Nothing is too hard for you - no sin you won't forgive, no sinner you won't welcome home. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of repentance, the joy in confession, the delight of being forgiven and set free.
Thank you, Lord, for my fuzzy green blanket, Brighton heart jewelry, stretch boot cut jeans and my "afternoon pint" (of red rooibus tea). Thank you for warm breezes that blow against my skin and your mighty, holy wind that blows through my life. Thank you for awe and wonder, for silence and solitude, for grilled cheese sandwiches on sourdough bread, for a soul-satisfying job and co-workers who are friends.
Thank you for my pastor. Thank you for my church. Thank you for my precious husband, for mentors and teachers, my daughters, my sister and my friends. Thank you for cleansing tears and rejuvenating laughter, for the rhythm of words, the smell of chlorine, the sound of thunder and the hope that's in your name.
Thank you, Lord, for not giving me everything I ask for. Thank you, Lord, for all you withhold and even take away. Thank you for your severe mercy, for it drives me to your side, brings me to my knees, teaches my heart that you alone are God.
Holy! Awesome! Glorious in all that you do and are!
You are wholly good. You are holy God.
When I think about my life before I knew you, I remember the emptiness and the longing, the brokenness, the search for meaning, the fear and shame, the guilt.
Thank you, Lord, for not erasing those memories, for they remind me from where I came. I need to be reminded of your great kindness, the immense mercy of your salvation and the bottomless well of your much-needed grace.
In a world gone mad, you are stability and saneness. A strong tower I can run to for safety, a caring Father I can turn to for love. You are faithful when I am not. Your forgiveness has no end. You give life - you are life.
You, who flings the stars in the heavens to light the darkest darkness, thank you! You, who paints the morning sky with strokes of lavender, butterscotch and pink, praise you. You, who rules the universe from on high and yet stops to hear my prayers, glory to your name.
Thank you, Father, for your tender care. Thank you, Jesus, for shedding your blood for me. Thank you, Spirit, for breathing life into every cell of my being.
With all I am and all I have, thank you. Amen.