This last Sunday, we asked the Kindergarteners to think of something they’re thankful for and 25 children, gave or take a few, raised their hands. Lorraine had a bunch of construction paper pumpkins, and when the children replied, they could put a pumpkin on the whiteboard under the banner “We are thankful for. . .” Repeats were allowed. We will ask for more thanks this Sunday, but so far, this is their pumpkin harvest of thanks:

God
Sister
Dad
Stuffed animals
Mom
Jesus
God
Thanksgiving at grandparents
Aunt Sarah
Fish
Sharing food
K class
Pumpkin pie
Family
Ana and Noah
Jesus
Family
Grandparents
Pumpkin pie
God
Family

To me, there’s something about writing down one’s thanks that makes it more real, more concrete. I sometimes save notes people mail in or drop off at church. One stands out. I go back to it often.

Eighty-six-year-old Anne sent a notecard to College Church with the following message:

One of your church members gave me a ride to the train station last week. It was a cold and snowy day and with my cane I was not managing the snow-covered sidewalk too well.

She would not accept any money so I told her I’d put it in the donation at church.
This is to say thank you, God bless,
Anne

At the Thanksgiving Eve service, brave people stood and publicly expressed thanks. They were brief and heartfelt. You know with each one that there is longer story in the background.

Loving parents, family, home, my friend, College Church, my job, the prayers of the church for my mother, youth group, ever-present Jesus, sharing the gospel with my students, College Church’s music, KMs, HYACKs, the goodness of God, the family of the church, KMs, the Living Word class, the Lord's help when I faced thoughts of suicide, God's covenantal love, the seventh-grade boys, Mike, the metaphor of a new pair of glasses, Baxter, my job, women's Bible study, God's presence in the storms of life.

As I listened, what people said brought things to mind from the past year. How interwoven we are with others, blessed to be connected and worshiping together.

Thinking back to Anne’s note, there’s a mystery to this message. How did Anne know her helper was from College Church? It doesn’t matter really, but it makes me curious to know more of the story. There is mystery when people help others. I think sometimes because we don’t always know how God might be at work in the kind acts, or the kind words we say to strangers, or the path we walk together through the years.

These are the type of mystery I think I like best—not a whodunit, but just the good stories of lovingkindness spreading without the need of shining a spotlight anywhere else but on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. He is working, especially in those times when we don't even know it, hearts burning with us.

Who is the man on the road to Emmaus talking to us with such wisdom?

How can we feed such a multitude with only one boy’s lunch?

Terrified, I wonder what I’m seeing in the storm, the figure of a man walking across the stormy roiling waves as if on a level floor?

Why save the best wine for last?

Why does only one in ten healed of leprosy bother to say thanks?

Why tell a crippled man to get up and walk?

Why cast our net on the other side of the boat after a whole night without a single fish?

Why open the tomb after a man has been dead for so many days?

Who is it I see from the boat cooking breakfast onshore and calling out to us?

Jesus, thank you for coming to us in the storm, thank you for talking to us on the road, praise you for giving us wine when we only expect water, bless you for filling our nets, casting out demons, bringing to life muscles, nerves, bones with the simple command, get up and walk. Thank you that your ways are not ours and you do not leave us to our own ways. Thank you for accepting meager thanks, even when we know our hearts should be overflowing with thanksgiving. Jesus, thank you for empty tombs and tombs, our tombs even, that will be empty one day, each of us stepping out or up or in from temporal to eternal, Jesus.

So as thankful as I am for pumpkin pie, corn casseroles, mashed potatoes and turkey, I am even more grateful for a simple breakfast on the beach and your invitation to come, follow, love, give.