Monday, June 20, 2011

Bless Us, O' Lord, And These Thy Gifts

Catholic grace. I must have said it thoughtlessly thousands of times. Hands on autopilot, racing through the words, stomach growling, mind elsewhere. Seldom do I say such graceless grace these days.

In these days of God's unmerited favor I am allowing the Holy Ghost to cultivate not just a thankful heart within me but an abundantly thankful one. He, my eyes, is able to see all of God's gifts to me in the light of Eternity as well as the light over the kitchen sink. The sun does not set on such thankfulness. Too often I have been overwhelmed by a forgetfulness that little remembers what thrilled me yesterday.

Bless us, O' Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ...

Abundance in Christ. Bounty through Christ. Love heaped upon itself, Creation shot through to the heart with such love as equals His power. He came so that those who believe in Him “may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). No skinflint this God.

Each day contains its own treasure and its own evil. I am reckoning my treasures in a book and letting the bad stuff fade with memory. I am a nurse and there is a saying, "Care undocumented is care undelivered." So I write down the specialness of the days and read to remember when I need to fill my eyes again. I write of His goodness and plump up my heart with it in the thin times.

When John David went to war I began writing my trusting thoughts, my thankful thoughts, my heart of love for God thoughts. I wrote in notebooks, on rocks in the garden, I slipped notes under those same rocks, I drew my feelings on the inside covers of my books then gave them away. Some thoughts I tucked into the coin returns of vending machines.

The entry for September 9, 2005 claims, "I will live each day on what comes from the Lord's hand. Maybe a raven will bring it. My God will be enough through a long winter's war. Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts for I still feel JD's last, crushing, this-will-last-until-I-come-home, hug." I have written long. The list grows.

Henry Ward Beecher speaking of Thanksgiving Day encouraged us to, " Remember God's bounty in the year. String the pearls of His favor. Hide the dark parts, except so far as they are breaking out in light! Give this one day to thanks, to joy, to gratitude!"

A lovely thought but one day feels insufficient to celebrate my "bounty through Christ Our Lord." The "pearls of His favor" beg me to be worn daily. Daily it is. Pen in hand I map new oyster beds.

Sally's new cup full of great-grandson smiles.

John promising to cook something from his new cook book.

A miniature tea set in remembrance of a little one who has tea with the angels.

A wooden airplane made from scraps and imagination.

The robin full of eggs singing to me in the morning.

The voice of the turtle I hear in the Word, "Come away."


Enough for all.

Bless Us, O' Lord, and these Thy gifts!

No comments:

Post a Comment