When all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
Unnumbered comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived
From Whom those comforts flowed.
Ten thousand, thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the least a cheerful heart
That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through all eternity to Thee a joyful song I'll raise.For oh, eternity's too short to utter all Thy praise.
I stopped numbering back in May. Why? Inertia, I suppose. A bit of malaise. The crush of busy-ness. These are not good reasons. They were, like life often is, unintentional. And the days continued and the gifts went not entirely unnoticed, but uncounted, and my heart was less cheerful.
This life is far too short for inertia, malaise, and busy-ness. So, I go back, thankful for new mornings and fresh starts, to counting and more intentional thanksgiving. There are, as the hymn says, ten thousand, thousand precious gifts and I'm only at...
2025. music of the summer morning: cardinals, crows, cicadas...
2026. the play of morning light on oak leaves
2027. metaphorical language in Scripture (Isaiah 28:23-29)
2028. helpful commentaries and new insights.
2029. a couple of quiet days to be guarded from interruptions
2030. morning smoothies to handed to one boy on his way back upstairs for his quiet time and to another on his way out the door to work.
2031. good work for sons to do
2032. starting fresh, knowing the pay-off of perseverance and that slacking off doesn't have to continue in a downward spiral. Get up and keep walking - literally and figuratively.
2034. After church lunch time conversation and reflection around the table.
2035. a table full of books and papers to help in completing this day's task of syllabus writing.
2036. energy and time for the job!
2037. the promise of a walk and a swim