I want to live like this all year long. This gratitude, this thanksgiving, and this river of emotional indebtedness flowing onto everything I encounter. It’s all new and fresh right now in this season of cold air sneaking in, turkeys running for their lives and Santa setting up shop.
It's spasmodic joy over the simple, seemingly common. When red apples piled
high on your kitchen counter make you cry...you know your soul is tapped into
reverent acknowledgement of God's grace. I don’t always see life through this
lens...but right now, I do.
I see a house that holds warm air, hand crocheted blankets wrapped around
little girls reading library books three days overdue, a grey rescue dog who is
overweight from table scraps and a man whom I still sleep close too, head
on his chest drifting off to the sound of his heart beating and I think,
"These are the gifts."
Recognizing *the gifts* as just that...gifts. This is the intentional pause
that binds my faith.
Gift- Something given voluntarily without payment in return.
That I didn't "do" anything to earn this life. Camping on the idea
that God, in His compassion...gave a gift...many gifts...to me...a nobody.
What could I possibly bring in return to reflect my hearts cry of
thanksgiving? I refuse to get wrapped up in all the "doing" for acceptance
and I am far too good at the "being still and knowing" He is God. And
I find that now more than ever the most appropriate thing I can be is the acknowledger. Is that a word? I so hope it
is...I want it to describe me.
I feel small in a world that is swallowed up with big people grabbing for
stars to make themselves shine bright. I want to shine too...but I want it to
be the reflection of my God, The Light.
I will acknowledge the Giver. This is my gift to the King.
All anybody ever really wants is to be thanked. Don't you agree? Not a big
fuss, just a verbal recognition. It's the very least thing...but the most
There is nothing revolutionary about this notion, yet I find it missing
among most people I know. The credit is seldom given to the Giver of all good
Not me Lord. Not today. Not now.
Here I am, a mess of a sinner still holding tight to The Gospel. The simple
version. The one that starts with a virgin and a manger... skips all the
theology and debates... and ends on a Cross. Miraculously beginning again
through the Resurrection. I confess this truth.
It's just me, Allison Lee, the acknowledger.
Jesus, you are everything. In this statement I find the root of all
thankfulness. Let the feast begin.