Thanksgiving Hymn

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For sun above and earth below,

For flowers’ blooms, and rivers’ flow,

For springtime after pristine snow,

Lord, we give you thanks.

For sunshine after timely rains,

For mountain peaks and golden plains,

For air in lungs and blood in veins,

 Lord, we give you thanks.

For tables laid with pumpkin pies,

For elders’ lore, and newborns’ sighs,

For secret looks in lover’s eyes,

Lord, we give you thanks.

For day to work, and night to rest,

For Heaven’s Love on earth expressed,

For all the ways that we are blessed,

Lord, we give you thanks.

 

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I Am Job

potentillabranch

I am Job,

the One of Multiplied Loss.

Family,

friends,

employment,

possessions,

reputation,

health,

value,

self –

all are added on Affliction’s Abacus.

Feeble fingers

let them slip,

great blood-drops

to a parched and greedy earth.

Having nothing more to hold,

I lift hands to heaven,

free to worship He who

gives and takes away,

Empty,

yet

so very

Full;

for who can I hold but You?

Who have I ever been

but Yours?

Ashes to ashes,

dust to dust,

naked I came,

and naked I am cursed to remain;

but it is here,

in the naked places,

that I choose Your raiment.

It is here, in the place of emptiness,

that I choose Your food.

I am Job ,

the One of Multiplied Gain…

Morning Delivers

morning chirp

Morning delivers her first-born sun,

wrapped in swaddling cloud;

shepherd-hills covered with fleeces spun

of sugar before manger are bowed.

Birds upon wings of angel-dew

sing glories to all who will hear;

those who are wise will do well to pursue

as blessings of Christmas appear.

When Grace Cascades

frosty morning tree

Shiver-struck in winter’s grip,

frigid-bleak and glacial-crisp;

branch out, soul, when ice invades,

the more to catch when grace cascades.

Open Fingers

Blessings fall from heaven’s storehouse,

light on objects far below;

only hands with open fingers

catch the ones that grace bestows.

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Doesn’t this look like an open palm waiting to catch something wonderful?