Take Time to Be Thankful.
By A. Q. Hagerman
An aged man, ripe and rounded in Christian experience, would sometimes say in class-meeting, speaking in his quaint English dialect, “I oft thinks we’re nawt ’aulf thankful enough.” Indeed, we are not half, “nor quarter” thankful enough. We are ready enough to fret and murmur over what we are pleased to call the ills and disappointments of life, but are very backward in giving thanks for life’s constant benefits and rich fulfillments. We find more happiness than grievousness along our path, and yet we do not give thanks as audibly and copiously as we pour forth our complaints. And still how many mercies encompass us—benefits of which we are almost stolidly unconscious until we miss them! Then we can fret freely enough, although we forgot to sing before in our prosperity. And we are so hurried in business, and greedy of more gain, that we seem to have no time to be gladly thankful, with the free, overflowing gratefulness of the heart of a little child. We, it is true, say over a more or less joyous form of thanksgiving in our daily prayers, but it is too often a hurried offering, in dull, stereotyped phrase, that has no upward spring of honest, heartfelt gladness behind the stately words; there is little freshness of feeling, little spontaneity, or outwelling gush of inward, quiet praise in much of it. We do not “shut to the door” of our heart so effectually that not a vexing note of care can creep in and make a jangling discord in our brief song of thanksgiving. I do not mean that our prayers ought to be all thanksgiving. No; that cannot be while we are in the flesh; but they ought rather to be like the Book of Psalms, in which are many utterances of sorrow, but which concludes with joyous exultation and a grand “Praise ye the Lord.” I know that we set apart, or have set apart for us, a day of thanksgiving. This is well. It is good to thus openly and publicly acknowledge the goodness of Him who giveth us richly all things to enjoy. But are we sure that there is no subtle desire, almost unconscious, perhaps, to do our thanksgiving by the job, and so make the day’s acknowledgements serve for a good while before and a long while afterward? We may, on that day, prepare our good things with gladness, and “eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is provided,” and all be content to be thankful for one whole day together, except, possibly, those overcareful Marthas who are cumbered about much serving. But is this enough? Let us beware lest we rest there, thinking we have done a large part of our task of yearly thanksgiving. Inasmuch as our Heavenly Father’s mercies are new every morning, ought we not to be ready to give him full, unblemished offerings of praise day by day? Oh, that we had more glad psalms in our hearts, and less grievous grumbling! “Praise is comely.” The reflex influence of true thanksgiving is blessedly uplifting to one’s own heart. And there is much to be thankful for in each one’s life. No living man is so unhappy in his outward circumstances but that his state might not be made worse. So let him be thankful that he has even that to comfort him, which, if it were to be taken away, would add to his affliction. In the midst of great sorrows, it is better to be thankful for little mercies than to fret the hours away and consume the heart with weak, childish self-pity. Let us be very sure that in all his dealings God is love. And is it no blessing that “he stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind”? But all visible things are secondary. “The things that are not seen are eternal.” We have a present and everlasting salvation from sin, through Christ Jesus, to be thankful for always; and what a salvation from what a foul and dire estate! We have the gift of the Comforter to abide with us forever. We have a hope of Heaven, where no sorrow is, and no pain. “He that believeth shall not make haste.” We doubt, and therefore worry. We have so environed ourselves with pressing, vexing cares, that we seem pinched for time to be heartily, peacefully thankful. There is an unrestful sense of urgency in our hearts, driving so many of us from dawn till dusk, and which makes us hurry away from restful, strengthening communion with God, who ought to be our “exceeding joy.” Ah! this feverish unrest is a taint caught from the poisonous air of worldliness. We chase and grasp after riches, pleasures, fame. And how weakening and wearing it all is! How much stronger we should be if we would but daily take time to be thankful, rejoicing in the Lord always, casting all our care upon him, for he careth for us. “The joy of the Lord is your strength!” A. Q. HAGERMAN.