Sola Gratia
Praise God for all things.
All things, God?
Barren trees with branches blown
down haphazard on dirty snow?
Skies of grey upon grey upon grey?
Leftovers for lunch and supper
and supper again?
Renovation dust populating
every. single. surface?
Cold hands, dry skin, tired eyes?
Relentless wind
and unanswered prayer?
It’s easy to praise you for every
blessing that feels like a blessing —
retune my heart to praise you
for all the things that don’t.
Praise God from whom
all blessings flow:
A warm home during
Extreme Cold Warning weather
lasting for days on end
Birds that flit and fly and sing
even in Extreme Cold Warning cold
Untouched snow and cloudless skies
Sunrises and sunsets and sun dogs
Bowls of chili and cups of hot tea
Conversation, laughter, prayer
with my husband of forty
Valentine’s Days
A day of Sabbath rest
days of goodness
weeks of hope
years of grace
Praise Father, Son, Spirit.
Amen.
Praise to the Creator of all—
You fill the skies with birds that sing
and swoop and dive and flit and swim,
but can’t sow or reap or build barns
yet feast on abundant goodness
because you care for each of them.
Of how much more value are we
who walk and work and till the ground,
we who live and move and have breath
because you breathed in us your life,
and ever mindful of us, you
set eternity in our hearts
that we might ever sing your praise
and feast at your table of grace.
To the Faithful One who caused the sun to rise…
and shine bone-penetrating afternoon warmth
on friends whose hands cradle cups of hot tea
while conversations steep in grace and hope
and broken-hearts-still-healing drink whole-heartedly
the reminders to faithfully pursue truth and trust…
be all glory and praise, honour and majesty.
Amen.
To the God who makes
resplendent white swans navigate
across skies cerulean blue,
soft grey collared doves preen and coo
in trees rough umber-brown,
rusty-yellow pine grosbeaks dress
in feathers impossibly delicate,
be all glory and majesty, praise and honour.
Amen.
