Thanks

You who know any ounce of me know that gratitude is the refrain for my song.  And on a day devoted to giving thanks, the need to speak it feels even greater.  Even deeper.  

I don't have words for it all.  Not shareable words, but I was writing in my mind earlier and I'll try to capture what of it I can remember (worded less gracefully, connected less fluently).

--Oh, and a necessary quick interlude before I go on-- can we sing the praises of French press coffee?  Can we take a moment to bask in its innate superiority?  Okay.  I'm done stalling.

I guess the gist of it is that I am grateful to recognize the God behind all of the difficulties I have faced in my life.  I know that in the physical pain I've faced, my body crumpled and broken, He draws me closer to him.  In the guilt of dark wishes answered, He draws me closer to him.  I know that in the ache and sadness, in the worry and uncertainty, in the hope and in the wind dropping from my sails in open water, He draws me closer to him.  

It would make sense to prefer an easy life.  And I do wish to be delivered from all these thorns that catch at my skin so I can dance and dance and dance, but I know that I wouldn't feel as constantly drawn to Him if it were that easy.  Or I would, but in a less complete way.  The struggle and the wait has a way of deepening my connection to Him.  Probably, obviously, because it requires faith.  

The gratitude helps me welcome the hard parts.  I try to embrace it as another chance to prove my mettle to the One who trusts me with questions this big.  I don't usually feel like I need to prove myself, but with Him, I want to be worthy of who He is and what He's given and worthy of the promises in store.   And I'm grateful for the opportunity.  It's a many faceted love. So I feel lost sometimes, yeah.  And I want to get churlish and demand answers.  And I feel so in love with the One who made this world and so glad He sees all the beauty I see.  I feel frustrated and unsure.  And I feel confident that He's giving all of this to me for a reason.  I feel humbled and small and grateful for all of the goodness He's poured into my life.  I feel like I'm a cup with no bottom.  I want to faithfully receive what He has to give me in full knowledge that there will always be more good than bad.  That even sitting and choking  in a broken Corolla, I could see the micro-slivers of shattered glass make the most beautiful motes in the slanted sun.  

Ach this is getting listy and I hate when my writing gets listy.

But right now, in this heap of heavy I've been carrying for months and years, I'm grateful for the parts that are drenched in gold.  I know He's got God ideas-- which are better than my crazy-eyed plans.  And my crazy-eyed plans are damn good.  As much as I long for the answers and the green light, I close my eyes and breathe.  He's there in my breath, filling my lungs with exactly what I need right now.  It's comforting to know that what I've been given is what I need and I fully, gratefully intend to embrace it.  Even the thorny parts. And when I bleed, I'll gently tuck my wounds in the bigger ones He suffered for me.  And I'll know it's nothing because I've already been given everything.

It's not the typical Thanksgiving pie motif, but Faith, Hope, and Love.  That's what my heart spoke to me today.
And love and love and love.