it is a cozy fall morning. we sit around the table eating oatmeal pancakes, sticky with maple syrup, drinking juice and coffee. we've never known hunger.
still in pajamas, we march outside, around the house through the yard, in search of sticks and leaves. the little one trips and falls, cries dramatic dry tears. we've never known true suffering. we cut out paper leaves and tie ribbons. we write our gratitude, say thank you for our many blessings. we could go on all day.
the kids all want to write the name of their
far-off brother, their Mosa. i watch how they love this little boy they know only through a single picture. it is all they need -a name, a picture, a childlike love for a child like themselves. they write his name, thankful for him, for the blessings that allow them to bless.
and i can't stop thinking about the others. so many others. i think of the beggars on the medians, under the overpasses. we drive past them warm in our car, stomachs full of pancakes. we are on our way to church when we pass them by.
i read their stories and weep for them, for a world that forgets them, for my own sin of ignoring them.
we are giving thanks, saying thanks, writing thanks. are we living thanks?
we have so much- so very much more than we need. we have hearts full of a love that is unending, overflowing, compelling us to give and give and give and find that we will never run out of love to give. this truth we have and believe. are we living it?
"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." Colossians 2:6-7
