WRIGGLING about in bed at 7.30am, huddled up, three warm bodies — spouse, child, and mine — is a blessing tantamount to heaven on earth. It’s not just the act of snuggling in bed. It’s the feeling that accompanies such a treasured experience. It’s knowing that this stage won’t last, that it needs to be indwelt with the fullest possible consciousness. Having children in their twenties, having enjoyed the same experience with them, I know that the time’s fleeting.
When we recognise that certain experiences don’t last, that they’re scarce, these very experiences become as valuable as all the gold on earth.
That thought imbues a precious grace — the gift of God — that is known in feelings bestowed of His Spirit in gratitude, which tips into the gorgeous grace of thankfulness.
Experience is a privileged learning as God bequeaths a wisdom that can be learned no other way.
Not all days can I say all my life can say right now is, I’m thankful. For no particular reason. For a renewed sense for hope, perhaps. For a parchment of humility to embrace a hard thing or two, maybe. But thankfulness is never vouchsafed in anything one does not already have.
Thankfulness is pregnant, full term, with the possession of gratitude, ready in hope to birth a beloved sense of irrepressible faith.
Thankfulness indwells hope like a hot air balloon carrying the basket’s occupants international.
Thankfulness is never a small thing. It breaks forth as love led by the Holy Spirit. Nothing we can contain.
When all you’ve got to say is “I’m thankful” you have a heart rich and poised to bless others.
Thankfulness is a flower in full bloom, at its very best, yet ready to die for others.
The greatest of experienced paradoxes is in this: the deeper we’re scourged, the deeper does go our sense for thankfulness. But only by the Holy Spirit!
Be blessed to be thankful. Be thankful and that blessing is eternally yours!
© 2016 Steve Wickham.