Thank you, God, for thick, warm socks on crisp winter days.
Thank you for the smell of pine needles,
for the taste of a juicy orange,
for packages delivered in trucks,
and colourful lights dancing in the dark.
Thank you for the poignant pleasures
of unpacking Christmas ornaments,
and looking at photos from years gone by.
God, in this hard year, we’re stumbling towards Thanksgiving.
There has been lots to trip us up;
a pandemic, economic meltdowns, social isolation,
injustice on so many fronts: #BlackLivesMatter, #MeToo,
and the ongoing call for justice for indigenous peoples.
Not to mention hurricanes, forest fires and climate change…
and this is not even including the everyday sorrows
that haven’t let up for one minute!
We wouldn’t wish this year on anyone!
Glory be to God for autumn things!
For the green world changing colour;
golden, crimson, amber, rust.
For baskets of glorious apples:
delicious, ambrosia, russet, spy.
For the grain tumbling out of the combine,
the pumpkins filling the field,
for round bales of hay weighing down wagons.
And then the crisp fall breezes bringing clouds
heavy with rain, hinting of snows to come.
We come with thanksgiving for the rich blessing of the harvest,
and the work of the farmers who produced it.
God, this is a year where we take nothing for granted;
Gracious God:
We are the church united as we pray from different locations,
connected through something more marvellous than technology–
your Spirit filling us with hope and vision.
We come first of all with thanksgiving.
Thank you for the many kindnesses we have experienced
in this time of social distancing: old friends reconnecting,
some households learning about togetherness,
others learning new quieter rhythms….
Great God: our community gathers in spirit
through the marvels of technology to give thanks together.
Thank you for medical professionals and staff
who work so faithfully in hospitals, clinics and nursing homes…
give them strength, courage and personal protective equipment.
Thank you for the diligence of scientists working on a vaccine,
and the way so many have ramped up the production of essential supplies.
Thank you for storekeepers and clerks,
farmers and truck drivers,
Thank you God for everything under us;
for these chairs on which we sit,
for this church’s firm foundation,
for the soil with its burrowing animals and insects,
for the rock down under that, layered by the sea in ancient times,
for the water that flows in subterranean channels far beneath us,
and for the miles upon miles of bedrock,
unknown and unexplored by all but you,
all the way down to the living heat of our planet,
the molten rock deep in the heart of the earth.
Thank you God for everything above us;
Thank you, God, for the joy of today.
It is still morning, and yet so many good things have come our way:
the joy of shelter, the joy of clean water coming out of taps,
the joy of food on the table.
Thank you for friends who understand us,
and the joy of meeting new friends.
Thank you that we are here in church, body and spirit,
thank you for the joy of worshipping you, our Creator.
And in the midst of joys, in all honesty
we admit that we come with fears.
Some of us have fears about new beginnings;
new schools, new relationships, new jobs.
We don’t know how we’ll do or how we’ll feel—
God, you give life to life!
From Day One, your Spirit brooding over the deep,
your wind rushing, your breath filling.
As creatures of the earth, we inhale your grace
rejoicing in life abundant.
We use our breath, our being
to raise this hymn of praise:
for Jesus Christ, our Saviour,
and for the mission you give us
to spread your love to the world.
Thank you for the wind!
Thank you for the way it sweeps across our great country,
over the Pacific ocean, up the mountains,
flying across the plains and the great lakes,
whooshing over the boreal forest
till it arrives in Ontario in great gusts, [adjust to fit your geography]
making everything alive and lively,
blowing our hair and clothes into tangles,
filling our lungs and then blowing away
up the St. Lawrence all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.
Fill us with your Spirit this morning like this wind,
enlivening us, moving us, stirring us….
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.
I love to write and to lead worship! If you are finding my writing helpful, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to use or adapt the material here, it is all written by me. If printing material, please credit “Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com” (and say whether you modified it). If publishing, please contact me for permission. Contact me at carol@leadinginworship.com
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