Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles and the judgements he pronounced.
They crack crisp under my feet. These fallen leaves from glory high lay as a reminder of passing time. I don’t know if I necessarily need a reminder for as much as these dry leaves break brittle under feet, my cracking joints sing similar songs.
Yet, wanted or not, they remind. Speak volumes of the fleeting moments that make up our lives. Minutes that together form seasons bringing forth life and death. Seasons that wax and wane with a rhythm so familiar and yet each a mystery we wait to unfold.
Faith, my friend, walks to destinations unknown. It moves in the waiting. It is a seeking anticipation. Not a life deferred. When the seasons change our living we must strive to look beyond the ebb. We must gather our remembrances of grace that once was and take it as manna into our wandering.
A feeding of faith for the journey ahead and at its table today I gather to give thanks. For all that was…for all that is…for all that is to come.
Gratitude is born in hearts that take time to count up past mercies. – Charles Edward Jefferson