Today I’m grateful for pen and ink. For paper and for the gift of being able to render your creation on the page. And God, by “able” I of course do not mean that I can really, fully do that. Just that I may. Dear God, thank you for allowing us to copy off of Nature’s notes on who you are. Who you are. Hm.
Thank you God, that I got to hold a starfish today! I hope that it was okay that I did. I held it just the way I saw the biologist man do it; I don't think I hurt it at all.
(Thank you, also, that you do not charge me for each exclamation mark I'm going to use today. I'm already poor enough.)
Thank you, my Father, for the beach and for sunset on the beach! And once again for the joy of drawing your creation even though sunsets cannot really be rendered in pen and ink. But that's because of all the beautiful colors, God! Such a dazzling sight, God. Thank you so much for all these colors.
And thank you so much for the girl who thinks and dreams (at least daydreams) in so many colors! My mind's black and white, God. Her's is ablaze with color! Thank you so much for allowing me to get to know her; she's such a treasure, and it's such a delight to see the world through her eyes.
Thank you for haystack rock (and once again with the pen and ink).
Thank you also for my cool pillow cases (which the above mentioned girl sewed for me). They're so cool. (And also for the little drawing book she gave me! I'm very grateful for it too.)
Thank you for letting me get to see a starfish in the process of eating a barnacle thingy. That was pretty neat.
Wait. Can I thank God for me?
What I really mean is life. The life you’ve given me.
And what about Mr. G. K. Chesterton? Who was so giddy with gratitude and love for you.
Make me giddy in love with you. You’re the one I seek.
Because you’re beautiful! You are life! You impart life to me! You are worthy; you are worthy to receive the reward of your sufferings. What is the reward of your suffering? What was the joy set before you so that you endured the hardship of the cross?
Union with your bride! How wonderful. Make me (us) lovely, my Love.
You are the Lover, we the Beloved.
To be loved by you. The most complete. The Perfect One. To have the Complete One, the Sufficient One be made incomplete and insufficient for me.
I’ll never understand it. I’ll never be able to describe it really. This is so poor you know, God.
I thank you for my sister even though we argued about whether or not George Eliot is a good writer!
Thank you for Tuesdays and allowing me to post this even if it's one day late. Thank you that I can always give thanks. Make it my life's rhythm, God.
In Jesus' name,