That I hold onto as if my life depends on it. Because it does. When I forget, when I get distracted, when I loosen my grip in whining and complaining, I lose my balance. I feel myself teeter off center.
Then I remember, with a surge of fear, the rushing river beneath me that will sweep me away If I let go. The icy cold swirl of life, with all its cares and concerns, all it’s eddies and boulders. So I grip on tighter with a prayer of thankfulness. Even the smallest thing will do: the wind across the pond, the sigh of my dog, the stirring of my children in the dark morning, my wife’s gardens, burritos, a new song I’ve never heard before, an old song I’ve heard a thousand times, a good book, even a mediocre book. Any little thing will do, and a string of little things gives my fingers enough strength to hold on a little longer.
Gratitude is a branch I hold onto, but it’s also a branch beneath my feet. A bigger branch; a sturdier branch. This is not the branch of my thankfulness, but of God’s thankfulness. It is strange to think, isn’t it, that God is thankful? But he is. Where else would we learn to be thankful other than by being the offspring of the Thankful One?
In my thankfulness for all that he has given me, all that he has enabled me to experience and enjoy, I hear him say, “I am thankful for you.” I remember in that I am one of the little things on God’s great List of Gratitudes. And I suddenly feel that firmness beneath my feet. I relax. I steady myself. Balanced and secure.
I hold onto him; he holds me up. He supports my weight with gratitude for me; I balance myself with my gratitude for him. That’s how our relationship works.
“I cling to you; your right hand upholds me.” (Psalm 63:8)
