We walk on starry fields of white And do not see the daisies; For blessings common in our sight We rarely offer praises. We sigh for some supreme delight To crown our lives with splendor, And quite ignore our daily store Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way Upon our thought and feeling. They hand about us all the day, Our time from pleasure stealing. So unobtrusive many a joy We pass by and forget it, But worry strives to own our lives, And conquers if we let it.
There’s not a day in all the year But holds some hidden pleasure, And looking back, joys oft appear To brim the past’s wide measure. But blessings are like friends, I hold, Who love and labor near us. We ought to raise our notes of praise While living hearts can hear us.
Full many a blessing wears the guise Of worry or of trouble; Far-seeing is the soul, and wise, Who knows the mask is double. But he who has the faith and strength To thank his God for sorrow Has found a joy without alloy To gladden every morrow.
We ought to make the moments notes Of happy, glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days a silent phrase Of music we are living. And so the theme should swell and grow As weeks and months pass o’er us, And rise sublime at this good time, A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) began writing poetry at age eight. Her first published work appeared when she was fourteen years old in the New York Mercury. She devoted herself to a life of writing and hosted a literary circle at her home on the Connecticut Sound, Bungalow Court. Her work was at times scandalous for her day. Her collection of love poems was rejected by a Chicago publisher on grounds that it was immoral. It was later published in 1883 with the racy title Poems of Passion. When her poems sold 60,000 copies in two years, her reputation was established as a bestselling writer, even if critics disparaged her work. A natural advocate and enthusiast, Ella was an early spokesperson for animal rights and practiced vegetarianism. In 1918, she traveled to France in support of the war effort to read and lecture for soldiers in the Allied camps.
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Caring Community” Psalm 136
In the spirit of our tradition of sharing testimonies on Reformation Sunday, I’m stepping away from a regular sermon to share a little of my own story – which is really our story.
When I moved to Saranac Lake from the Chicago area, almost 19 years ago, I knew that I had my work cut out for me. This church had been through a lot. Many people had left. Among those who remained, there were factions. Harsh things had been said. Hurt feelings were abundant. We had trouble with what our interim Pastor Carol Drew astutely labeled “malicious gossip.” On top of that, we were looking at a $45,000 deficit budget and had exhausted much of our available savings.
Perhaps our biggest problem would be cultivating a caring community. We didn’t trust one another. We didn’t feel safe sharing our family concerns or health troubles. At first, we didn’t even feel comfortable naming our joys and concerns on Sunday mornings because you never knew if your personal business might become the afternoon chatter at the DeChantal. Healing would take time and hard work.
We began by changing our deacons, shifting their responsibilities to better meet the biblical diaconal role of Christian caregivers. Deacons stopped planning potlucks. Instead, they began to build skills like listening, keeping confidentiality, visiting, and praying with others. Two by two, they went out to visit our homebound members and friends. They also offered caring hospitality for funeral and memorial services. They did some good cooking – delivering meals for folks going through surgeries, chemotherapy, or having a tough time. They were a wonderful comfort to our aging members of that greatest generation.
It didn’t stop with the deacons. One day, Priscilla Goss returned from a visit to her cousin in Virginia with a stuffed bear. He was a cute little fellow with a bowtie and a ribbon around his neck with a little sign that said he was a blessing bear. He had been living in her cousin’s church, just waiting to be taken home to someone who needed extra love. What a sweet idea! Soon, our pews had sprouted a batch of bears. The late Bob Brown always kept an eye open for bears and would visit me like Santa several times a year with a big bag of furry friends. Over the years, many of us have taken bears out to bring a much-needed smile to those who needed it.
Another dimension of our caring ministry emerged when we formed the Heart & Hands Circle, which brings together knitters and crocheters once a month. They pray and get busy, making prayer shawls, baby blankets, and lap robes. Going through chemotherapy? You need a warm shawl to wrap around your shoulders. Recovering from knee surgery? A lap robe! New addition to the family? Break out the baby blanket! Since its inception, the group has sent out about 140 of these wonderful handmade creations to bless us.
Of course, there are more ways that we have grown as a caring community: the prayer chain, the deacons fund, our commitments to Samaritan House and the Food Pantry. How about the cookie bomb, Parent’s Night Out, and those wonderful summer bouquets that we take out weekly? We care. People have noticed, too. Visitors often remark that ours is a warm and welcoming community. Thank you, Jesus!
I don’t think I truly realized the depth of caring in this church until I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent some big surgeries. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for all the love and care that came my way. And I thought you might like to see and hear some of the special ways that your caring was shown. I even brought a little “show and tell.” So, I’ll name some things, and you’ll respond with the words, “Thank, God!” Are you ready?
There has been plenty of good food! Home-made dinners, baked goods, sweet treats, birthday cake, and blueberry jelly. Thank God!
There have been flowers! Fancy florist bouquets, giant mums, garden flowers, and a 3-D paper arrangement that came all the way from MN. Thank God!
I’ve gotten lots of get well wishes! Cards, letters, emails, texts, Facebook posts, and a sweet little message on the chalkboard outside our front door. Thank God!
There have been gift certificates and fun gifts! Nori’s, Grizzle T’s, more Nori’s, and Adirondack Therapeutics; a little gourd, a little pumpkin, dumb bells, and what every pastor needs: corgi socks. Thank God!
There have been contributions of the pastor medical fund! Big gifts, little gifts and everything in between, donations that have helped us with those huge expenses. Thank God!
There have been abundant prayers! In worship, in homes, on the prayer chain, on Facebook, over the phone, and even in other churches and around the tables of local boards and charities. Thank God!
Thank God and thank you! This is what a caring Christian community is all about. We’ve come a long way, baby! Thank God!
Psalm 136
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever. 2 O give thanks to the God of gods, for his steadfast love endures forever. 3 O give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his steadfast love endures forever;
4 who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures forever; 5 who by understanding made the heavens, for his steadfast love endures forever; 6 who spread out the earth on the waters, for his steadfast love endures forever; 7 who made the great lights, for his steadfast love endures forever; 8 the sun to rule over the day, for his steadfast love endures forever; 9 the moon and stars to rule over the night, for his steadfast love endures forever;
10 who struck Egypt through their firstborn, for his steadfast love endures forever; 11 and brought Israel out from among them, for his steadfast love endures forever; 12 with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, for his steadfast love endures forever; 13 who divided the Red Sea[a] in two, for his steadfast love endures forever; 14 and made Israel pass through the midst of it, for his steadfast love endures forever; 15 but overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea,[b] for his steadfast love endures forever; 16 who led his people through the wilderness, for his steadfast love endures forever; who made water flow from the rock, for his steadfast love endures forever;[c] 17 who struck down great kings, for his steadfast love endures forever; 18 and killed famous kings, for his steadfast love endures forever; 19 Sihon, king of the Amorites, for his steadfast love endures forever; 20 and Og, king of Bashan, for his steadfast love endures forever; 21 and gave their land as a heritage, for his steadfast love endures forever; 22 a heritage to his servant Israel, for his steadfast love endures forever.
23 It is he who remembered us in our low estate, for his steadfast love endures forever; 24 and rescued us from our foes, for his steadfast love endures forever; 25 who gives food to all flesh, for his steadfast love endures forever.
26 O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever.
Poem for a Tuesday — “Acceptance Speech” by Lynn Powell
The radio’s replaying last night’s winners and the gratitude of the glamorous, everyone thanking everybody for making everything so possible, until I want to shush the faucet, dry my hands, join in right here at the cluttered podium of the sink, and thank
my mother for teaching me the true meaning of okra, my children for putting back the growl in hunger, my husband, primo uomo of dinner, for not begrudging me this starring role—
without all of them, I know this soup would not be here tonight.
And let me just add that I could not have made it without the marrow bone, that blood— brother to the broth, and the tomatoes who opened up their hearts, and the self-effacing limas, the blonde sorority of corn, the cayenne and oregano who dashed in in the nick of time.
Special thanks, as always, to the salt— you know who you are—and to the knife, who revealed the ripe beneath the rind, the clean truth underneath the dirty peel.
—I hope I’ve not forgotten anyone— oh, yes, to the celery and the parsnip, those bit players only there to swell the scene, let me just say: sometimes I know exactly how you feel.
But not tonight, not when it’s all coming to something and the heat is on and I’m basking in another round of blue applause.
in 180 More Extraordinary Poems for Every Day, ed. Billy Collins. New York: Random House, 2005, p. 99.
Lynn Powell is a poet, writer of creative non-fiction, and educator. She has been awarded an NEA Fellowship in Poetry, the Felix Pollak Prize in Poetry, the Studs and Ida Terkel Author Award, the Brittingham Prize in Poetry, 4 Ohio Arts Council Excellence Awards, and the Great Lakes Colleges Association New Writers Award. She lives in Oberlin, Ohio, where she teaches creative writing and serves as the director of Oberlin College’s Writers-in-the-Schools program.
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come into God’s presence with singing. Know that the Lord is God. It is God that made us, and to God we belong; we are God’s people, and the sheep of God’s pasture. Enter God’s gates with thanksgiving and courts with praise. Give thanks to God, bless God’s name. For the Lord is good; God’s steadfast love endures forever, and God’s faithfulness to all generations. —Psalm 100
“For each new morning with its light, For rest and shelter of the night, For health and food, For love and friends, For everything Thy goodness sends. For flowers that bloom about our feet; For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet; For song of bird, and hum of bee; For all things fair we hear or see, Father in heaven, we thank Thee!” —Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanksgiving was a special holiday for the family of poet Ralph Waldo Emerson—so much so that they celebrated for two consecutive days. They feasted at Uncle Samuel Ripley’s home on Thanksgiving Day. Then, on the following day, they would “keep festival” with extended family and friends at their home in Concord. It was one of Emerson’s favorite occasions. Indeed, he called the day “Good Friday.” According to family recollections, it was a fun-filled day of “family gossip,” feasting, and games.
Thanksgiving is central to the Christian life. Our Israelite ancestors made pilgrimage to Jerusalem, entering “God’s gates with thanksgiving and courts with praise.” At Passover, they gave thanks for God’s deliverance from slavery in Egypt. At Pentecost, they rejoiced in the harvest of wheat and God’s generous providence. When New England Puritans celebrated their first American thanksgiving, their feast shared sentiments of Pentecost and Passover. They were grateful for their harvest and the help of indigenous neighbors; and they gave thanks for a new home, free from persecution for their Protestant beliefs.
The tradition of gratitude for God’s deliverance and providence continues in our annual Thanksgiving Day celebrations. Despite the hardship of pandemic and the losses that have touched our friends and families, the Lord has seen us through. Emerging from the COVID cloud has felt a bit like deliverance from bondage in Egypt. Despite the isolation and the anxiety of the past twenty months, we have much to be grateful for, from life and love to bird song and bee hum.
According to researchers at Harvard Medical School, gratitude is strongly and consistently associated with greater happiness. Gratitude helps us feel more positive emotions, relish good experiences, improve our health, deal with adversity, and build strong relationships. Returning to God with gratitude and acknowledging God’s goodness to us deepens our spiritual life, brings hope, and builds trust that God will continue to work in ways that help and bless.
So, pass the mashed potatoes. Thanksgiving is good for us—in body, mind, and spirit. You may not follow Emerson and his family in celebrating extravagantly for two days; yet, wherever you are this Thanksgiving Day, may it be a time of goodness and gratitude.
“O Lord that lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!”—William Shakespeare
“Be present in all things and thankful for all things.”—Maya Angelou
Joann White 