“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Okay, sweet soul, lean in right now. Let your shoulders relax and that stress wrinkle in your forehead just take a minute. Because today we are thankful and that’s the only thing on our to-do list.
And, yes, we can handle that. Calming the rush, letting the laundry sit another day, and not even opening our email inbox, we are just here and there’s some things that need to be said.
So let’s take a minute and stop the Insta scroll to do what we were created to do all along: give thanks. Pour forth. Lay down.
And hardly anyone writes a letter now days, let alone a letter of gratitude, but today is going to be different and we’re going back to what seems like the 1900s— when life was exhilarating in the peace and time seemed to stand still in a good way. We are sitting down with pen in hand and a blank page (or back of receipt) before us to pour out what has been poured in. We are giving what is deserved and speaking what is piled up because thankfulness is nothing if it’s not spoken.
My fingers are typing words that I don’t even know will come, only that I’m not alone in what my heart has to say. You’re here and she’s over there and I just refuse to feel isolated in my gratitude today. Because in gratitude we can be together and in gratitude we can celebrate. We will celebrate today.
So as I write this little letter to a heart that deserves our thanks and as my pot overflows with mounds of green beans and as I sit in my pajama pants and as you drink your coffee and as the world keeps its rush, our souls find the space to just be.
Here we go. The broken now speaking blessing.
Jesus, It’s us, Your girls. But of course You already knew that. You know everything, but the sound of our voice does bring Your ear closer. And we have so much to thank You for today. When I ponder in my heart all You’ve done, I don’t think I’ll ever reach the end. So, in that, thanks for eternity. An eternity to be grateful for all You’ve done. An eternity to rejoice in the blessing of Your feet walking dusty roads to heal the brokenhearted and bind up our wounds.
And every other ‘thank you’ pales in comparison to this one.
Thank You that You knew us before we knew ourselves. Thank You for holding my heart before anyone else, speaking life over a soul that would far too often hear other words. Thank You for shaping my mind and breathing in my lungs and calling me Yours, even before my heart hit the womb. Thank You that You made plans for me and purposed me and even the thought of You creating me for a specific reason calms this soul. I tend to go back to this blessing on many days. . . just a reminder that I’m chosen. Thank You for choosing this woman and calling me Your own.
Thank You for being patient with me. And sometimes I forget You’re in control and try to do things myself. I fall flat on my face and end up bawling my eyes out all because I get in a rush, get in control, get in the pressure. But even still You wait for me. Even still, Your tender patience wraps this strained one up tight. Like a Father does, You bring me back to the path and give me direction once again. And every time You point, it’s Heavenward. Every time You guide, it’s one step closer to Your heart. Time after time, day after day, year after year, You bring me back.
Thank You for giving me identity. It’s hard when everyone else says I’m supposed to be one way and look one way and become one way, but You’ve always just said I’m Yours and that’s been more than enough. You’ve never set some high expectation that I can never reach. You’ve never chastised me for being anyone but myself. You are pleased with me. And I’m just so thankful for that. And when I stumble outside of who I am in You, Your gentle reminder holds me to the standard of who I really am: Daughter of Heaven. Your kindness at my stumble, Your reminder of That’s not you, sis, it just balms my heart with love. Thanks for loving me so gently, but also so ferociously. This radical balance has changed my life.
And the collision of it all has left me undone for anything but You, God. After knowing You, I’m honestly wrecked for anything outside of Your love. And somedays I’m confused by it, other days I’m lavished with it, and all days I’m content in it. I rest in Your love. I joy in Your love. I adventure in Your love. I wonder in Your love. I grow in Your love. I am me only in Your love.
Hard days, good days, and stretching days always just bring me right back to this place at the foot of Your throne. My hand being held by Your holed hand and it’s all peace now. And I’m glad here. Thankful here. Grateful here. Because it’s here that life makes sense and I make sense and they make sense and it all just makes sense. So my tears fall here and my laughter permeates here and even my thoughts find a place here. You’ve never turned me away when I didn’t understand. You’ve always just let me sit until Your love was all the understanding I needed.
Good. It’s what You are and what You’ve been and what You’ll continue to be. No scheme of the enemy or plot of man can say otherwise. I realize now You crafted me from love, in love, and for love. And I want my life to reflect that. So, to You, I’m so thankful. And how could I put words to what You did for me? No one has ever done what You did. No one else has ever lived only to die for me. No one else has held me to such a beautiful identity. No one else gives me purpose and heals and forgives and encourages like You. And at the end of my every day, it all comes back to You. Who You are, what You’ve done, and where You’re moving.
And the list could go on. But when a broken, now healed daughter types a thank you note, I have no choice but to send it to You.
So this is for You, dear Jesus. Heart of my heart. Maker of my soul. The One I love.
My eternal and forever thanks is to You.