Just some early morning thoughts from me to you…

Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and perform your vows to the Most High, and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”

Psalm 50: 14-15 (ESV)

I don’t know all that’s going on in your lives at the moment, but I’ll bet if you’re anything like me, you’ve had your share of valleys to walk through lately. Whatever they have been, it seems there are times that you can’t seem to catch a glimpse of the sunshine which you have heard was out there somewhere.

Well, why don’t you and I take time this week to stop, and climb back up on the mountaintop, and take a moment to remember and reflect on all the blessings of our lives? Perhaps this week—this Thanksgiving week—we could try something different. Perhaps, instead of dwelling on the things in the valley, we change our perspective to a view from the mountaintop, and list all the blessings for which we can be thankful.

Maybe begin with the basics, all the things for which you and I are thankful everyday—you woke up this morning, your bride, your husband, the health you have left, your children and grandchildren, the family pet. Maybe it’s a paycheck, a donation to ministry, food on the table, the wrinkled smile of an older and loyal friend, a precious child, and a phone call of caring which comes when you need it most, an unexpected hug, and a beautiful sunset.

That’s just the beginning of a list of blessings we can see from the mountaintop, which we’ll soon see will never end. And as you and I go through that list of thankfulness, we’ll begin to weave a perspective for life similar to the one the boy and the man in this story understood.

It’s a simple story of a young boy on his way home from school late one day. It was cold outside and snow was on the ground with more falling around him as he walked. It was around dinner time and he needed to hurry home.

But then a light through the cracked glass of the window of a little broken-down shack along the side of the road caught his eye. And so, forgetting about dinner for the moment, he cautiously made his way up to the window of that little shack, and what he saw stunned him—took him back for just a moment.

For what that little boy saw was a scene of stark poverty, of a frame wooden cot and tattered blanket, a small wooden table and one chair, and a small wooden bowl half-filled with broth. And on the wall—a picture of Jesus. And kneeling below that picture—a man in tattered clothes, with worn and wrinkled hands and the years of a difficult life written all over his face.

As the boy moved closer to the window, he could hear the words of that kneeling man—and he’d never forget those words. For in the midst of all of that apparent poverty, amidst the presence of the bleak and wintry day, all he heard coming from the walls of that shack were the steady words of that kneeling man—

Thank you, Lord, thank you…

Thank you, Lord, thank you…

Thank you, Lord, thank you. Amen.”

Upon first glance, it may have seemed as though that man was walking in what seemed to be a desperate valley. And by the standards of our society he was. But those standards are not what should govern the days and blessings of our lives.

For you see, that man walked to the beat of his Creator.

His list of the things he was thankful for was not written on a piece of paper, but was written instead all over the walls of a humble heart seeking to serve the God who created him. A God who walked with him and never left him, and who would be with him in the blinding snows of winter, and the scorching heat of summer.

Did you put that on your list of things you’re thankful for? A relationship with the God who will never leave you.

This might be a good week to stop and think about that relationship, and make sure it is a part of your life.

A relationship with Jesus Christ as your Savior and Lord.

Like that humble man. It is the most important relationship we will ever be blessed with—now and forever.

It provides a great view from the very top of the mountain.

In His Name—Scott


Copyright 2014. Scott L. Whitaker. All rights reserved.