We keep a list of thankfulness
and write the wonders down.
Not wealth, or fame, or worldly goods
or treasures we have found,
But memories of those we love
and beauty all around.
What then of heartache, pain and tears,
the suffering without rhyme
The gains we've lost, unanswered prayers
and swiftly passing time?
Are we to add them to the list,
these empty, hurtful whys?
Lord, if You were to make a list,
You who gave Your all.
Would pain and sorrow fill the page
remembering the fall?
Or would the joy of ransomed souls
make suffering worth it all?
We keep our lists, Lord, each of us
a mix of joy and pain
And then, by faith, we give You thanks
though questions still remain.
For You are good, and You are love
through every loss or gain.
Thinking about Thanksgiving