I remember a time when a homeless guy cleaned my windshield and I gave him what I had on me…
a couple of quarters and a dime.
He looked at me and said, “Is that it?”
‘Is that it’?! I was livid
Because first of all
He could’ve cleaned my window
Better with spit
I gave him all I had
(Minus my debit card)
But it didn’t matter –
He had no regard for it
Here I am trying to do the Lord’s work
And he’s looking at me like
“Thanks for the change, jerk.”
As far as he was concerned
I might as well have given him nothing…
But his reaction was pushing the button
On a deeper subject
That touches us all
The fact that we’ve been given
The world and everything in it
But we treat it like a mall
We consume until we’re full
With no consideration
Of the considerate nature
Of how it got here
We’re allergic to the concept
That we’re dust…
I too often have a hard time
With the fact that
I’m a sand castle with a pulse;
The same stuff they’ll use to bury me
Is the essential ingredient
To my physical make up
I’m nothing more spit and clay
In it’s heyday …
We think that we’re made men
But we can be done in
By the slightest headwind
We confirm our ignorance
To our disposition
With an oversight
To this revelation:
The air we breathe can’t be seen
And that speaks to the attribute
Of our Creator
We constantly demand
That He show His face
When His DNA is in everything
That we taste, see, and touch
Our senses are drenched in Him
Without so much as a mention
And we could give a…
You know what?
I’m just gonna go ahead and say it–
We’re going nuts
Looking for a payday
When Yaweh has already paid for us
The check ain’t in the mail
Because your debt
Was nailed to the Cross
That’s the equivalent
Of getting 100% gratuity
Only to treat it
Like a stop-loss
So the slightest inconvenience
Sends us flying off the handle
One little prick of the needle
And the damage is done -
We start accusing God
Of giving us way more
Than we can manage
And start calling for His job
No graciousness filling our hearts these days
Instead, we’d rather waste our time
Like disappointed kids on Christmas
Throwing temper tantrums
Because we think that
Santa must’ve missed us
We’re nothing more than straight up beggars
Who always think we deserve better
Than what we’ve been given
Always trying to hit the lottery
When we ain’t even
Got a pot to piss in
The sin committed by our first parents
Was rooted in a lack of gratitude–
Having everything wasn’t good enough
So they forgot to say, “Thank You.”
So greedy that they couldn’t even leave God
That one tree…
A blatant disregard for the Law
Mixed with an eagerness to take His place
(And that, kids, is how we came
To celebrate Black Friday)
Man, we’d all be turkeys on a plate
If it wasn’t for His grace
He became a sacrifice
Given for ignorant creatures
Who weren’t even trying to relate…
So while you’re thankful for your food
Remember that He’s the one
Who bought the farm
And if you thank Him for the calm
You gotta thank him for the storms
Be grateful for the good and the bad times
If you’re a have or a have not
He gives us abundant life through everything
And for that we gotta say,
“Thanks”...a lot
(cf. Psalm 100:1-5; Jonah 2:9; Philippians 4:6; 1 Thessalonians 5:18; 1 Timothy 4:4; Revelation 7:12)
Happy Thanksgiving,
Shon
