Let Every Breath Be a Whisper of Thanksgiving

The days grow shorter and cooler.

  The trees are bare and dark against the brilliant blue sky.

Gloves and warm coats are brought down from the attic.

The summer birds are long gone and only the sturdy blue jay and the bright cardinal remain to keep the finches and the sparrows company and to add some color to the drabness of winter.

The market is filled with the abundance of the autumn harvest and preparations have begun to celebrate the most American of all holidays, Thanksgiving.

What am I thankful for? Who can adequately answer this question?

Naming everything that excites feelings of gratitude would take until the end of time.  I am thankful for my eyes to see the sunrise in the morning and notice the bright sparkle in my spouse's eyes when he laughs. And for  the ears to hear my grandsons squeal and giggle, seemingly consumed with the joy of living, exploring and tasting the world. I am thankful for the sweet tartness of the apples fresh from the local farmer, and for being able to feel the smooth richness of chocolate and smell the fresh mint in my tea. My legs give me the constant pleasure of taking me wherever I need to go. I am ever grateful for them. I am filled with the joy of thanksgiving when the ones I love are near and I am grateful that the ones I love who are far away are safe and happy. I am moved to tears of gratitude by the sun and the moon and the stars and the rain. The vastness of the universe, filled with mystery, fills me with wonder and gratitude.  I am thankful for friends who warm me, cheer me on and pray for me.

Oh God,  let me join the psalmists, the monks and the poets, rising
early each day to praise you and thank you for this abundant and stunning life. Let my every breath be a whisper of thanksgiving, Lord.

Happy Thanksgiving!