| THANKSGIVING 
												Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with 
			praise be thankful unto Him, and bless His name' (Ps. C. 4). 
 In every thing give thanks' (i Thess. v. 18).
 
 As lilies of the valley pour forth perfume, so good hearts pour 
			forth thanksgiving. No mercy is too small to provoke it, no trial 
			too severe to restrain it. As Samson got honey from the carcass of 
			the lion he slew, and as Moses got water from the flinty rock, so 
			the pure in heart are possessed of a sort of heavenly alchemy, a 
			divine secret by which they get blessings out of all things, and for 
			which there is giving of thanks.
 
 A jubilant old saint in Boston came down to hoary hairs in deepest 
			poverty and had to live on the charity of such friends as God raised 
			up, and He raised them up. Bless His name! He who fed Elijah in the 
			wilderness by the brook and in the poverty-stricken home of the 
			desolate widow, found a way to feed His child in Boston. God is not 
			blind, nor deaf; nor indifferent, nor indigent. He is not 'the 
			silent God' that some people in their self-conceit and wayward 
			unbelief suppose. He knows how to be silent, and how to hide Himself 
			from the proud in heart. But He cannot hide Himself anywhere in His 
			big universe from childlike faith and pure, obedient, longsuffering, 
			patient love. Hallelujah!
 
 This old saint believed, obeyed and rejoiced in God, and He raised 
			up friends to supply her needs. Now, one day one of them went 
			upstairs with a dinner for the old lady, and as she came to the 
			door, she heard a voice within, and thinking there was a visitor 
			present, and delicately wishing that her charity should not be a 
			cause of embarrassment, she stopped and listened. It was the voice 
			of the old Christian at her table, and she was saying, 'O Father, I 
			do thank Thee with all my heart for Jesus and this crust.'
 
 To her thankful heart that crust was more than a feast and a 
			well-filled cupboard and a fat bank account to him who has not a 
			trustful, thankful spirit.
 
 I heard of a rich man the other day who killed himself because he 
			feared he might become poor. He was poor. Jesus said, 'A man's life 
			consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth' 
			(Luke xii. 15), and no more does a man's real riches; but rather in 
			the spirit with which he possesses them.
 
 Heaven is not parceled off into lots and estates. The angels own 
			nothing and yet they possess all things and are eternally rich. And 
			so with the true saint that trusts God and loves and obeys and is 
			thankful.
 
 The stars in their courses fight for him. He is now in harmony with 
			the elemental and heavenly forces and eternal laws of the universe 
			of God, and all things work together for his good. Not a hair of his 
			head falls without God's notice. Not a desire rises in his heart but 
			God's great heart throbs responsive to fulfill it, for does not the 
			Psalmist say, 'He will fulfill the desire of them that fear Him'? 
			(Ps. cxlv. 19). Not simply the fervent prayer, but the timid, secret 
			desire that has not been voiced in prayer, shall be fulfilled. And 
			how dare God do that? Because holy fear will not allow a desire that 
			is not in harmony with God's character and the interests of His 
			Kingdom.
 
 Napoleon gave blank checks on his bank to one of his marshals. One 
			complained to the Emperor that the drafts made were enormous and 
			should not be allowed. 'Let him alone; he trusts and honors me, and 
			I will trust him,' said Napoleon. God puts all things at the command 
			of His saints, and trusts them while He asks them to trust Him. Why, 
			then, should we not be thankful?
 
 Nothing will keep the heart so young and banish carking care so 
			quickly and smooth the wrinkles from the brow so certainly, and fill 
			the life with such beauty, and make one's influence so fragrant and 
			gracious and shed abroad such peace and gladness as this sweet 
			spirit of thankfulness.
 
 This spirit can and should be cultivated. There is much in the lot 
			of each of us to be thankful for. We should thank Him for personal 
			liberty, and for the measure of health we have. There is a good old 
			soul up the Hudson who for thirty years or thereabouts has been 
			lying in bed, while her bones have softened, and she is utterly 
			helpless and always in pain, but she praises and praises and praises 
			God.
 
 We should thank Him that we are not insane, that our poor minds are 
			not unbalanced and rent and torn by horrid nightmares and dread and 
			nameless terrors and deep despair and wild and restless ravings. We 
			should thank Him for the light and blessings of civilization, past 
			mercies, present comforts and future prospects; for food, with the 
			appetite to eat it, and the power to digest it, raiment to wear, 
			books to read; for the Church, The Salvation Army, the open Bible, 
			the revelation of Jesus Christ, the Fountain opened for sin and 
			uncleanness, the glorious possibility of escape from the penalty and 
			the power, the consequences and the character of sin; for home and 
			friends, and Heaven bending over all, with God's sweet invitation, 
			'Come!' Truly, we have much to thank God for, but if we would be 
			thankful, we must set our hearts to do it with a will. We grumble 
			and complain without thought, but we must think to give thanks. To 
			murmur and repine is natural, to give thanks -- to really give 
			thanks -- is supernatural, is gracious, is a spirit not earth-born, 
			but comes down from God out of Heaven, and yet, like all things from 
			God, it can be cultivated.
 
 David said, 'I will praise Thee' (Ps. ix. 1). He put his will into 
			it. Daniel 'prayed, and gave thanks' (Dan. vi. 10) three times a 
			day. David outdid Daniel, for he says, 'Seven times a day do I 
			praise Thee' (Ps. cxix. 164).
 
 Know this, that if you are not thankful your heart is yet bad, your 
			soul unclean, for good hearts and pure souls are thankful. So go to 
			the root of the matter and get rid of sin and get filled with the 
			Holy Spirit. Flee to Jesus for riddance from the unholy spirit, and 
			the subtle selfishness that possesses you.
 
 People who live in the midst of foul odors and harsh sounds cease to 
			smell and hear them, but if for a while they could slip away to the 
			sweet air and holy quiet of the woods and fields, and then return to 
			their noxious and noisy homes, their quickened senses would be 
			shocked by their noisome surroundings. And so selfish people often 
			live in themselves so long that they do not realize their 
			selfishness and sin, except as light from Heaven falls upon them. 
			But when God's sweet breath blows over them and His light shines 
			into them, then they are amazed at themselves. When some humble 
			saint, full of faith and joy and the Holy Ghost, crosses their path, 
			if they will but look, they may see themselves as in a glass.
 
 But especially is this so when we look at Jesus; and if we continue, 
			the look will transform us. It is of this that the Apostle speaks 
			when he says, 'But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass 
			the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to 
			glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord' (2 Cor. iii. 18). And when 
			this change has taken place, the joy of Jesus will be poured into 
			the heart and praise will well up and bubble forth in thanksgiving 
			as an unfailing fountain of sweet waters, filling it with joy, and 
			earth, your little corner of earth, with peace, and gladdening all 
			who see and hear. But if that change has not fully taken place in 
			you, do not withhold the praise that is God's due, but think of His 
			loving-kindness and tender and multiplied mercies, and begin to 
			thank Him now, and your very giving of thanks will help to hasten 
			the change. Begin now! Praise the Lord!
 
 |