you open your hand

The week before Thanksgiving found me tired, busy, and feeling just a tad overwhelmed (I think I just made one of those impossible statements, like trying to top a superlative --"very perfect" things are really, quite simply, "perfect" things. The fact is you're either overwhelmed or you're not!). I was very busy at work, completing a mountain of work only I could do, I was busy with church events that kept me out till at least 11 three out of five days a week . . . and I just needed a break. I tried to get myself to be thankful, collecting so many blessings: a degree finished, a new job, a new city, independence, health, all obvious things when you're trying to stir up some painfully slow and necessary feelings of gratitude.

I sat down and read the psalms. I turned to the later ones, knowing that those seemed to be overflowing with all the thanksgiving that I somehow lacked. Could I borrow just a little of that enthusiasm?

psalm 145.
"the Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made . . . the eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season. you open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing. the Lord is righteous in all his works and kind in all his works. The Lord is near to all who call on him . . . he fulfills the desire of those who fear him."

Suddenly I could be thankful. To a God who cared about me. Who answered my prayers.
With a resounding "YES!"
(I told my Bible study group this: I am not used to the yes answers. I'm used to the kind redirection of a father who is so much wiser than his child. The Father does know best.)
I had spent months praying that I would find work, a new job in a place where I could use my gifts for him in the office and in the city and in the church. Where I could pour myself out for all of these things like never before and grow! grow! grow!

And there it was staring me in the face. He gave me those things! What I asked for! Happier than a little kid at Christmas (still tired because of waking up too early to unwrap presents, but there's no time for sleeping.)

And now I could sing, because it wasn't about stuff anymore.

"they shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness and shall sing aloud of your righteousness . . .
"my mouth will speak the praise of the Lord,
and let all flesh bless his holy name forever and ever."

Forever and ever.

Now that's a superlatively long time.