This Thanksgiving as youíre seated,

At the table, in your place,

And you bow your head in humbleness,

Prepared to offer grace,

Donít thank Him just for what is there,

Before you on the platter,

For these are just the extras,

And they really do not matter,

What are the blessings we recall,

Where do we even start?

The answer to this question lies,

Deep down inside the heart,

I can only answer for

Myself and so you see,

The thanks I offer Him this year,

Is relative to me.

Iím thankful for the freedom

Of this nation where we live,

And for the military and

The sacrifice they give,

The firemen, policemen,

And the teacher in the school,

For democracy in action that

Allows each one to rule,

I am thankful for the food we eat,

For we are truly blessed,

Clean water, and the air we breathe,

My bed wherein I rest,

For homes to shelter, clothes to wear,

The shoes upon my feet,

And for the ones that share my life,

This blessingís extra sweet,

For health and wealth the world can know,

But only in their dreams,

We have it so abundantly,

Weíre bursting at the seams,

Yes Iím thankful for His blessings,

Heís bestowed upon this nation,

But most of all Iím thankful for

His offer of salvation,

His willingness to die for me,

That I be cleansed of sin,

That someday I might hear His voice,

As he says, ďenter inĒ.

So as you bow your heads this year,

Prepared to do your part,

Donít speak to Him with just your mind,

But open up your heart.

 used by permission
Copyright ©
Ron Bliss
All Rights Reserved 

 

 
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