Thirty-Two Blessings


Gratitude begets gratitude, just as love begets love.
(Henri Nouwen, Life of the Beloved)

That I am begotten by love,

That my heart beats
And my feet move

That the air is rich
For me to breathe

That love is patient,
That love is kind

That I can know
What goodness is

That I have companions
Beside my walk

That song is true
(Only hear the birds!)

That the world is full
Of light, of play

That colour

That I have climbed
Mountains and trees

That my eyes receive
The signals of life

That yellow flowers I cannot name
Line my road, my way

That I can talk for hours
To God

That I am small
And He is not

That language is beauty
And also meaning

That I have never suffered
As I should

That again the sun has chosen
To rise

That I must never
Truly fear

That I have been given
Home and name

That I belong
Where I am found

That sun and rain
Are common gifts

(That roads are built
That we may walk

And we may sit
In neighbourhood)

That even sparrows have a home
(How much more I, a child of grace?)

That I am held
In arms like His

That hope is stored
Where none can harm

That life is hid,
Yet lived today

That I can look up to a sky
And think – Sublime!

That all this glory
Is yours and mine

That in these thirty-two years of grace
It is not I but Him –

For this and more,
Much thanks.

My Cup Overflows

Too good, my God, the way You hold 
   my sliding self in You,
too good the way you lavish love,
   too good the way You chide.

Too soft, my God, Your voice, Your touch,
   and yet You thunder truth;
too faint, sometimes, the hand that guides
   and yet Your all abounds

in always-hoping, patient kindness,
   love forever mine;
too good, my God, too much the gift,
   the grace that takes me in -

each day a missive of Your grace,
   each aching joint a prayer,
each year that passes, fuel for thanks;
   too good, my God, You are.