I grew up in the deep South where “Please” and “Thank you” flowed as readily as the waves upon our Georgia shore. I also grew up in an era and a locale where “Thank You” notes created the ebb and flow of gift-giving as they wrapped up the response to any gift received.

 

My mother never failed to give a box of stationary every Christmas. It came wrapped with the expectation that every gift received would be coupled with a return note of thanks. As a child, a simple bit of art scribbled with bright colors on the inside of the notecard and my name sufficed. Once I learned to write words by myself, I needed to name the gift, express my delight, and thank the giver.

 

Christmas, birthdays, graduations, and weddings stood out as major gift-receiving occasions, thus involved major letter-writing times. Though I might not have thought it back then, the simple habit of giving thanks shaped my heart over the years. Once I discovered the greatest gift—the lavishing love of God—my thanks moved from perfunctory letters written at the behest of family expectations to a daily delving into delight. Thanks each evening flowed from encounters with the goodness and generosity of the Giver of gifts.

 

“Ought to” Notes

Yet, here’s the truth. Sometimes gifts received aren’t to our liking. Nevertheless, as a child, I was invited, no, make that required, to craft a thank you note anyway. The words were meant to address the thoughtfulness, time, and effort of the giver, regardless of my like or dislike for the actual present received. That “ought” made the letter-writing rather cumbersome.

 

Thank yous may be said, yet not always felt within our hearts. I remember the all-too-authentic words that trickled from the mouths of elementary school students, my little children, and even my mouth. I’m sure you’ve heard things like this, too. “I’m supposed to say thank you. I don’t want to say it though.”

 

It’s easy to say thank you for gifts that delight us, that fit us perfectly in size, shape, or personality. What’s harder is to stay thankful when the “gift” doesn’t fit our expectations.

 

What’s behind our lack of thankfulness?

A plethora of responses erupts. We’ve all experienced moments when siblings or friends receive exactly what we thought we were supposed to be unwrapping. Jealousy, disappointment, or resentment teeter-totter within the heart. “I asked for, expected, longed for what she has. I wanted my wish, prayer, and desire to come true, but it didn’t.”

 

Days buzz bright for one person, who receives news of the lab tests showing no dread disease. At the same moment, another person experiences the opposite: trauma. Their world implodes with the crisis du jour showing up on their doorstep yet again.

 

Two writers both wrestle long over books dreamed of and shepherded for years. One writer receives multiple offers from multiple agents. Fireworks of joy sparkle. The book becomes a New York Times Bestseller. Another writer’s book, just as diligently crafted, never gets a single thumbs up from an agent. Or perhaps a person’s book does come to press, yet it stands alone as a lesser seller.

 

What do we do with our thanks?

Sometimes elated, we forget to welcome the Giver’s gift with our gratitude. Other times, exasperated, our grumpiness overturns any chance of gratitude.

 

As this liturgical year draws to a close, Advent stands ready to appear right around the corner. Here in the United States, we prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving, a national holiday. Just as pumpkin spice seems to permeate the air of November, thankfulness memes and devotionals waft their way across the autumn atmosphere.

 

All Saints Day, November 1 stands as one liturgical bookend for this month. At the other end, Christ the King Sunday marks the last Sunday of Ordinary season, just the week before Advent begins. We start the month recalling Hebrews 11’s saints past and call to mind ordinary saints living just next door. We end the month centered on Christ the King, Who rules and reigns over all of time and space. Between those two sits a national celebration, Thanksgiving.

 

This year yet another friend-saint who now resides in heaven. Another memorial service dotted the calendar. Grief mingled with gratitude.

 

On such occasions, I remember the sound of laughter of friends no longer earthside. I thank God for the gift of their lives, yet ache for they are no longer within touching distance. Keeping my eyes on Christ the King reminds me of the bigger story of life with God. What is now is not what shall always be. What was yesterday may change by tomorrow.

 

For me, ending the liturgical year with a glance back creates a heart-written thank you note for gifts received and places me within the bigger story of God.

 

Prayers of Thanksgiving

In the Book of Common Prayer, multiple prayers of thanksgiving exist. One that holds my hand and heart as I recall the year past and as I imagine the year to come expands my thanks to God. It’s wise to rightly grieve plans waylaid by ill health, impending surgeries on the horizon, unexpected financial topsy-turvy-ness, or weather gone sideways, leaving disruption and debris in its wake. It’s also heart-healthy to find the thanks in the good as well as in the upside-downness of things gone awry, gazing at God who gazes back at me with lavishing love.

 

During November, I pray this prayer of thanksgiving, tracing the gifts of the year, even finding room to ponder things that feel decidedly un-gift-like. I take time to journal, writing letters of thanks to God.

 

I use the format of “A Litany of Thanksgiving” to slowly hold one or two phrases in my heart and memory during my morning time. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit sit with me, a space of colloquy, heart-deep dialogues of prayer. I watch God, seeing how His heart beholds mine as I trace His hands on the face of my days.

 

May this prayer give you space to recite the good, the hard, the unexpected wonders, and the unwanted griefs of your year.

 

May your thank you notes be prayers full of beholding Him who beholds you with an eternal flow of love upon the shore of your heart.

 

 

A Litany of Thanksgiving

Let us give thanks to God our Father for all his gifts so freely bestowed upon us:

For the beauty and wonder of your creation, in earth and sky and sea,

We thank you, Lord.

For our daily food and drink, our homes and families, and our friends,

We thank you, Lord.

For minds to think, and hearts to love, and hands to serve,

We thank you, Lord.

For health and strength to work, and time to rest and worship,

We thank you, Lord.

For all who are patient in suffering and faithful in adversity,

We thank you, Lord.

For all who earnestly seek after truth, and all who labor for justice,

We thank you, Lord.

For all that is good and gracious in the lives of men and women, revealing the image of Christ,

We thank you, Lord.

For the communion of saints, in all times and places,

We thank you, Lord.

Above all, we give you thanks for the great mercies and promises given to us in Christ Jesus our Lord;

To him be praise and glory, with you, O Father,
and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever.  Amen

 The Book of Common Prayer, Anglican Liturgy Press, Anglican Church in North America, 2019, 680.

Join My Mailing List

Encouragement delivered to your inbox

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Share This