Lord,
Despite the fact that I can feel
the dance begin,
the one that sweeps up family and
feasting, bustling hands and beauteous light and twirls them round and round my
heart,
I sense You pulling me deeper.
Yes, it is good to gather, to
greet each other with holy kisses and to give thanks. Generations after generations have taught us
that ritual. We know it by heart.
But Lord, I long to live out my thanks giving. I don’t want it to be reserved for
pre-appointed dates on the calendar.
I need to practice this act of
thanks giving so that it becomes a sacrament.
Because on many days, the thanks
are slow in coming.
And some days, they don’t come at
all.
How can this be?
Perhaps it is because my
wandering heart finds your shadow and declares you absent, choosing to embrace
emptiness and despair. Looking closer I
might see that the darkness that puddles around me is actually cast by the
breadth of your wing. And that you are
always passing by.
I must burn the Truth on my
lips--that your mercies are new every morning-- so that when my heart fails and
my vision blurs, my mouth will declare forth your praise.
Lord, may my thanks giving always
be a response rather than a ritual and may I learn to see that your love is
everywhere.
Amen.
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