11-28-13 Giving Thanks


O God,

thank You for the gift of sight,

to see the world so that I might

view all the things that You create,

a universe both small and great.

“Just wait, My son,” You look at me,

“the things in Heaven that you’ll see.

This beauty can’t be put to paint;

the colors here have no constraint.

Your eyes will open finally

to view the timeless jubilee.”

O God,

thank You for the gift to hear,

to listen to the sounds so dear

that strike my ears so beautifully,

the range of this world’s tone and key.

“Just wait, My son,” You whisper low,

“the splendid noise you’ll come to know

as angels, saints and seraphim

raise up their voice in one great hymn.

No earthly instrument can play

the songs we’ll sing, the things we’ll say.

O God,

thank You for the gift of touch,

a tender kiss I cherish much.

The many things that brush my skin

from rough and thick to soft and thin.

“Just wait, My son,” You hold my hand,

“you’ll feel your heart grow and expand

to touch the essence of My love

that both transcends and rise above

this tactile world surrounding you;

embrace the Word and feel brand new.

O God,

thank you for the gift of smell,

so many odors I can’t tell

from nature and from city scents

and subtle things from years long spent.

“Just wait, My son,” Your fragrance sweet,

“the bouquet here is so complete,

it’s richness you just can’t compare;

it permeates the very air,

reminding you My love is pure;

just breathe it in and you’ll be sure.”

O God,

thank you for the gift of taste,

for kisses dear and feasts embraced.

I know that You provide the food,

both sweet and bitter, bold and subdued.

“Just wait, My son,” You give me wine,

“Far greater things I’ll have you dine;

the banquet Heaven gives to you

will fill your spirit through and through,

and once you taste My drink and meat,

your appetite will be complete.”

O God,

You hold me in Your arms and say,

“Your senses here will soon decay,

temporal life is here and gone,

the dusk will come as sure as dawn.

These things are gifts by My pure Grace

for you to seek each hidden place

for every one of My lost sheep

who’ve strayed away and gone asleep.

If you believe and hope and pray

upon My Son you will some day

use all your senses for My Will

to tell the lost I love them still.

Your work will glorify My name

and glorify Jesus just the same

and when your senses all do fade

and when at last your body’s laid

into the earth, why, then you’ll see

such wonders you’ll cry out in glee.

Just wait, my own adopted son,

now run the race and know you’ve won.


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