Incense of Thanksgiving
Today, on Thanksgiving 2012, my heart wanted a list. This won’t be the kind of list in which you victoriously cross off things, but one where each line is a flight to wonder--each entry an addition to gratitude. There will be no order of importance, except that the Last One will really be the First One. I am thankful for:
Children at the beach, their feet dancing in steps that no choreographer could notate.
Silhouetted figures of beauty against a dazzling diamond-lit-up sea.
Waves that crash to shore with heart-stirring percussion.
Open gates that show the longing of closed hearts.
The reliable newness of each day to work, and play, and listen, and love.
The V-form of bird flight—how they rotate out the one taking the first windblast.
The connection to eyes that ties with a ribbon of celebration to hearts.
A sunspot that comes from 93 million miles away to bedeck a tree with a joy-globe.
Gardens placed like a variegated bouquet to cheer us.
The monumentality of trees that looks like a praise dance.
Benches that wait expectantly for sweet dialogue.
Fruit hanging heavily on branches equal to the bounty.
Plumeria blooms that look like the stamp of holy kisses on a love-note.
Hummingbirds as the sign that size and power are a receipt not to be measured.
Silence and moments in which to ponder.
Words that reach all the way to the heavens to find wordless and holy mystery.
Horizons that really are not a line of limitation.
The stamina of a sapling in a rainstorm.
Seabird flocks at the waves’ edges rivaling any corps-de-ballet.
Roses, and the industry of bees, in a symbol of such extravagant passion.
Shadows like the great pen and ink etchings in the finest museums.
Trellises that assist the Morning Glories to cover us in waking hues.
Art-makers who honor the Creator.
Dandelions so the children always have their enchanting take-home-bouquets.
Homes that exude the heart-welcome of godly hospitality.
Places of rest and refreshment for the weary traveler.
New buds for a metaphor of audacity.
People who place birdhouses in the wilderness.
A maze that opens us to growth in ingenuity.
A wreathed front door in any season.
Curiosity and the skill granted for discovery and healing.
The heart of the word: Love.
Backpacks for the Way they leave hands free to search and exclaim.
Fountains that sing and radiate light--tossing rainbows abroad.
Books and their mission of sweet narrative and brilliance.
The meeting of the ages across the affinity of joy.
The way that the coiling waves bring ruffles to the edges of the land.
A worshipful camera.
Stairways that call to the dance of ascent to new territories.
Solitary walkers, and their faces, that somehow cannot leave childhood behind.
Breaking bread together that has its own special anthem-song.
The creatures that are not actors.
Cloud formations that make a museum seem tame—even one with a Van Gogh.
Pods on trees that wait for their special wind.
Heart rocks polished and shaped over eons just to lavish a message of cherishing.
Time, especially when we are unaware of it.
Athletes: marathoners, runners, joggers, walkers, and those using a walker.
How a wild thing never decides to become tame just for a visit.
How I so often see crosses in all kinds of structures.
Storm clouds that are outlined in a backlit emerging light.
Rocky shorelines just for the hopping.
A tree not yet in bloom that writes a calligraphy of readiness upon the sky.
The smell under a Grapefruit Tree.
Floral buds that look like little baby-fists ready to amaze with their opening.
A candle that dances to inspire us to light-up.
Prayer--the incense of thanksgiving--anywhere and anytime!
A library in which each spine speaks of a strong structure just awaiting receipt.
A homeless person really seen, regaled, and found at home again.
Quilts to wrap into and the people who make such gorgeous patterned coverings.
Butterflies who stop their lovely staccato flight to pose for a moment.
Children’s art--whether on the sidewalk or on the refrigerator.
Mailboxes, of any type, that are bursting with good news.
The gifts of a loved-one--best of all a true-heart.
Flowers that grow right out of the seam of the sidewalk.
A waterfall that explains electricity in a glimpse.
Reverence along the shore of a stained-glass sunset.
A smile that enkindles.
Balloons and kites, because the best toy is being at the other end of a flying object.
Birdsong that charms by melodies that ring over the hillsides from such tiny breasts.
A grape vine dressed in the beautiful jewels of Communion.
My local church where the faces bear the true expressions of compassion & blessing.
The unique gift of your precious life, dear Reader.
My family of friends who are worth more than any treasure chest could ever hold.
My husband who tenders me to the love of Jesus through his own dear love for me.
And the Last Who is always the First—The Love of the Father, Whose Son came to save me, and Who would never leave me alone by sending the Holy Spirit as my Truth and Comforter—for the journey.
Philippians 4:6 tells me that thanksgiving is the necessary accompaniment for all dialogue with the Lord. Its message is so sweet: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
I request, Dear Lord, thankfully that You would show us ever more of Your glory from the sidewalk to the clouds on high! My camera remains--always worshipful of You.