Thanksgiving is here once again; time to reflect and refocus on all the good things in life. In my case it’s a long list: a brilliant and caring wife, healthy and happy (and also brilliant!) sons, great family and friends, neighbors with a sense of community, a fulfilling career, a roof over my head, enough (probably too much) food in the cupboard, the chickadees at my feeder, our garden full of peppers, the creeks and mountains and bats and salamanders and orchids. I thank the Lord that, through no fault of my own, I was born into a small town, middle-class American world.
I don’t know why I got so lucky, but I’m pretty sure that I don’t particularly deserve my good fortune any more than others born into worse–in many cases much worse–situations deserve their bad luck. I’m convinced that the answer, or maybe non-answer, is in the Book of Job where God basically says “I created this world and everything in it, including you, and you’ll never really understand why things work the way they do.” Don’t take too much credit for your good luck. So on Thanksgiving, and the rest of the year, I will despise myself and repent in dust and ashes (at least a little). I will thank God for my life and make an effort to repay Him by tending His creation as best I can.
Just saying “thanks” doesn’t seem like enough.