Do You Remember To Thank God For Your Gift Of Faith?

The Jesuits gone done it again

Do I reflect on and thank God for my gift of faith?

As so often, the daily 3-minute reflection by the Jesuits brought me up short. The reading was:

Does, then, the one who supplies the Spirit to you and works mighty deeds among you do so from works of the law or from faith in what you have heard? “Thus Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness. Realize then that it is those who have faith who are children of Abraham (Galatians 3:5–7).

The Jesuits first pose the question:

Do my actions reflect my belief ?

I try, oh, how I try! Failing all the time, especially when it involves matters of patience.

The second question

Do I reflect on and thank God for my gift of faith?

Well yes. That’s when I sat up, corrected that computer slump posture, and reached for my morning coffee.

I’m one of those peculiar souls who talk to God all day. My conversations yesterday all dwelt around the house. I had a mound of washing. Don’t know why. Only two adults and three dogs live in the house; still, washing and drying took most of the day. And quick strolls through the garden to stretch my legs, let my five-pound toy poodle do his thing, and check on the damage from the deep frost we’d had.

Yes, these things took all day. And as I like talking to someone and God is always around, I burn his Almighty Ears as I go about my day.

Lord, thank you that I have clothes to wash. And thank you for the washing machine and the dryer. Thank you that I have a house to clean, and Lord, how grateful I am for a good vacuum cleaner. You know Lord, these old houses in Florida with their danged popcorn ceilings shed dust like sand off a puppy fresh from a run on the beach. And before I forget, a bed to make and, oh my, those fresh sheets tonight.

But not once did I stop to thank you for the gift of faith.

The litany continues outside:

Lord, thank you that most of these plants will recover. And thank you that the ground didn’t freeze; I can see all the weeds are alive, testimony to that.

And as I go for a walk:

Lord, every breath I take, every step I take. The gift of good health, thank you. Lord, thank you for eyes to behold the beauty of nature. Blue skies, soapy suds clouds poised on a shelf, trees with floating Spanish moss. The Intra Coastal Waterway running swiftly out to the Atlantic. Dolphins playing, rowers practicing, a boat cruising past, leaving a rippling wake in the early morning sun glancing off the waves. I look up, a faint silver spot leaving a vapor trail marks a passenger plane going somewhere. Lord, thank you for our safe skies.

And Lord, thank you for my hearing. Ears, to hear a red-headed woodpecker chipping away, a bird call somewhere, a giant heron squawking in annoyance as his morning fishing is interrupted, a dog barking. The distant sound of a lawnmower means someone has a job; thank you. The faraway sound of traffic means someone has a car, gasoline, and a place of work to go to. And there are people able to provide employment.

Lord, for all these things, I thank you daily as I go out and about. I thank you for my husband, my dogs, the life you allow me to live.

But Lord, not once did I thank you for the gift of this faith I have.

I kneel in Adoration, and I thank you for my church. I thank you for our priests, the laity, and all who work to make practicing my faith possible. That I can worship without fear of reprisal. And nobody will come after me because of my color, race, language, where I am from, or what I believe. I’m as safe as one can be in these crazy days we live in.

But not once do I thank you for the gift of faith

I sat with this thought for a while.

I accepted my faith without ever considering the value of this incredible gift that guides and supports me. I thought of how it had sustained me in dark times, helped me in difficult times, and tied me to the cross when there was a Siren’s call.

No More.

Lord, I thank you for the Gift of Faith

And with those few words, everything else falls into place.

https://www.loyolapress.com/retreats/we-are-blessed/