Seeing and Saying Thanks

Seeing and Saying Thanks

There is so much in life that is not fully appreciated until it is a memory. Relationships come quickly to mind. When Amy and I were newlyweds we lived on a very meager income, rented a garage apartment that smelled of mothballs, and did not have a television for the first six months of marriage. It seems so long ago and as I now recall that first year my heart is warmed with gratitude that Amy and I said “I do.” A few years later children forevermore changed our lives. I remember those early days when our boys were infants and the midnight feedings and diapering as well as long sleepless nights of colic. To be honest, it was just about impossible to notice and be grateful. Yet looking back I am grateful, even for those grueling days of early parenting. Through the years we would gripe about driving all over the state to visit relatives during the holidays and wonder if we should just stay home. Now many of those same relatives are dead and we wish we could just share a sandwich.


We do not always see our gratitude until it is a reflection of the past. And then we are often rushing right past gratitude on the way to something else. Perhaps it is too obvious to point out that Christmas decorations have been out since early fall. I am not Scrooge, but I have a deep problem with our rush to Christmas because in doing so we trample Thanksgiving.


To be grateful is to both see and say our thanks. Alan Culpepper writes in his fine commentary on Luke: “Gratitude may be the purest measure of one’s character and spiritual condition.” Of course he is right. To be grateful shapes every relationship on earth as well as in heaven.


Here is what I have seen to given thanks:

  • My life: It is far from perfect – but mine nonetheless to enjoy and live fully within.
  • My wife whom I have enjoyed nearly thirty years of marriage where we are still raising each other.
  • My two boys whom I admire because they are becoming not the men I want them to be, but the men they are created to be.
  • Sunrises, sunsets, and nighttime skies full of stars.
  • Beautiful books written by brilliant people and for all those teachers that instilled upon me a love for reading.
  • The smoke of a campfire – its smell is homecoming.


I am thankful for you too:

  • Those delicate hands, gnarled with arthritis that grab my scruffy face in an embrace.
  • The children and youth of this church whose very presence blesses me beyond words.
  • Your stories – not just the ones of success but even the failures and tragedies, for they too have their meaning
  • And yes, for our time together sharing faith and hope.


Since I see it, I have to say it: thank you.