Tag Archives: thankfulness

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Thankful … to Whom?

Alice, our great granddaughter, is 14 months old now and beginning to do so many things. She is walking, running, climbing, clapping, and starting to say recognizable words. One phrase we say to her often is “thank you”. Alice will pick up a toy or piece of food and each out to give it to us. Sometimes she even lets go!

We always say “thank you” wanting to model for Alice polite behavior. Yet even more importantly, we want Alice to know from this very early age that SHE is not the source of all around her. We are modeling what appreciation means and teaching thankfulness in a very basic way. When someone gives you something – you say “thank you”.

I have heard more and more often recently people thanking the “universe” when they receive an award, appreciate the beauty of the world we live in, or even feel lucky. Who is the universe? Does the collection of matter around us choose to bestow favors or things on us? I looked up the definition of universe and this AI generated result was a summary of several results – “The universe is a simple definition for everything that exists, including all of space, time, matter, and energy. This encompasses everything from planets and stars to galaxies and the smallest particles.”   This definition describes what exists yet it does not include any level of intelligence or feeling that would bestow blessings on deserving individuals – or even random individuals for that matter.

I get the sense that when someone “thanks the universe” – they realize there is something else out there – some source for the beauty, blessings, and goodness they have seen or received. The individual realizes that they feel thankfulness in their being and they need to express that – but to whom?

I would propose that the source of our existence and all that makes up the universe is infinitely more than space, time, matter, and energy. Something – SOMEONE – is the source. Our universe is too complex, interdependent, and magnificent to just have exploded into being.

God.

God, the creator and sustainer of the universe is the Source. One of the great minds of the 20th Century – G. K. Chesterton – came to faith in Jesus Christ because he felt thankfulness and realized that he needed to know who to be thankful to. Chesterton became a clear voice for Christianity and relationship with God.

Psalm 100

1 Shout with joy to the Lord, all the earth!
2 Worship the Lord with gladness.
Come before him, singing with joy.
3 Acknowledge that the Lord is God!
He made us, and we are his.
We are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving;
go into his courts with praise.
Give thanks to him and praise his name.
5 For the Lord is good.
His unfailing love continues forever,
and his faithfulness continues to each generation.

We want Alice to know from an early age how to be thankful AND to whom she is thankful.

This Thanksgiving we must all be clear about who we are thankful to as the Source of all creation.

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Tested and Tried by Fire

I have been blessed over the years to attend several women’s retreats and conferences. I have heard inspiring Bible teaching and been challenged in my walk with the Lord. My favorite sessions have included clear teaching from God’s Word and practical application for my life. I can remember hearing Elisabeth Elliot speak in 1973 at Urbana (a college age missions conference).  I can’t tell you the times her words have challenged me in the many years since that conference. I also was blessed by a godly Bible teacher, Sally Fesperman, starting in 1975 and spanning many years. She was an older woman who took seriously the Biblical mandate “older women should teach younger women to love their husbands and children.” Titus 3:5

I can remember thinking how blessed I have been by their example and I wanted to be used by God as they were. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

I sensed the Holy Spirit asking me at that time – “These two women bless you, yet are you willing to suffer what they have suffered? Their lives have been tried by my refining fire.”

Whoa.

I was stunned.

 photo from www.onethankfulmom.com

Elizabeth Elliot lost her husband when he was murdered by the native people in Ecuador he was making contact with. His intent was to share Jesus with this remote group of people.

    photo from findagrave.com

Sally Fesperman lost her first son as an infant and her second son was killed by a run away dump truck soon before he was to be married at age 24.

These women were sharing with us from the refining fire of suffering. Their words were powerful because they had been forged by holding unto the Truth of God’s faithfulness in spite of the circumstances. They both had suffered, yet when hearing them share, you saw joy and peace radiate from their faces.

I could not answer yes to that question stirring in my heart. I didn’t want to suffer – to lose my husband or my children. I was clearly NOT ready to share with others what I had not lived through myself. Sharing others’ stories can be good, yet the testimony of a woman tested by time is powerful.

I also have come to realize that I held unto several false beliefs because I wanted them to be true. Those false beliefs would have been stumbling blocks to anyone I shared them with.

God in His wisdom has allowed me to be tested by time. The difference from who I am now and what I have to share is 73 years of God’s faithfulness. In spite of my weakness, He is strong. The amazing fact for me is that even though I was arrogant and even prideful thinking I had something to share when I was young and untested – God has seen fit to allow me to share from His Word.

Isaiah 43: 1-3

But now, this is what the Lord says—
He who created you, Jacob,
he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name, you are mine.

2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.

3 For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

That is ALL I have to share that is of any worth – the Truth of God’s Word. I have been tested by time and God is faithful!

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Silent Night, Holy Night, Again

Adahlyn Wood Ledford, Caleb Ledford, and Alice Caroline Ledford

Silent Night
By Abigail Hardy
It was December 5th, 1992.  As I rushed with my parents into the emergency room entrance late that night, a gurney sped past us.  Like a snapshot, I can remember, the sight of a leg, knee up in the air covered with a white sheet and below the knee, unnaturally, something large and black was bisecting the bloody leg.  Is that really what I saw?  I was too unsure to ask my parents.  I could tell they were more scared than they were willing to admit to me.
I sat in the waiting room of the ER.  I felt lost and unsteady as my parents went back to talk with the doctors.  Words like “accident” “coma” “racing” “head-on” were punctuating the air of the waiting room as people from our small church slowly filled it. 

Things like this do not happen to us.  Not to kids coming back from a church youth group trip.  Surely not, God. 

The van, driven by our church’s youth group leader and my Dad’s closest friend, had been hit head-on by a man in a Corvette.  He had been racing 120 mph down the curving road, some pieces of his car left hanging high in the trees. 
My oldest sister Hannah had been in the back of the van with four other junior high students from our church youth group, and two adult leaders in the front.  Kirsten, the energetic college student from WCU who helped with the youth group, died instantly.  Hannah was in a coma.  Mr. Brown, the driver, was the victim we had seen as we rushed into the ER with the brake pedal stuck through his lower leg and a broken pelvis and ribs.  He had been pinned in the car and had prayed with the kids and kept them calm until the emergency services arrived and were able to cut him out.  Another student had a serious head injury and the other three had escaped with broken bones or scrapes and bruises.

My sister had been airlifted to Memorial Mission in Asheville soon after my parents and I had arrived at the local ER.  When I got to visit her in the hospital the next day, I remember the sight of my mother, holding her hand, singing hymns and Christmas carols to her unresponsive body. 

On the third day, as my mother sang Silent Night to her daughter, she heard my sister’s voice join with hers.  Hannah had woken up.

This is the meaning of Christmas, lived out by the people I lived with. 
Mr. Brown, speaking peace to panicked kids as his own pain loomed like a giant wave above him. 
Kirsten, losing her life in the middle of obedience to Christ’s call on her to minister to kids.
My mom, singing Silent Night over my sister in total faith that God is our healer and restorer.
My sister, given back life through no merit or effort of her own, and, oh, so thankful for that gift.

And, yes, the tears fall when I sing Silent Night at Christmas.  Because this is a beautiful, broken world that our Almighty God was born to save.