A Psalm of Thanksgiving

Psalm 95:1–2

BY NOW, YOU’VE NOTICED I’ve got a love affair going with Thanksgiving. It has been going on as far back as I can remember. Hands down, it’s my favorite holiday of all. Here’s why . . .

First, there is no way it can be commercialized. Have you noticed? Shopping centers jump from spooks to Santa . . . pumpkins to presents . . . orange and black to red and green. It’s doubtful that any of us has ever seen (or will ever see) a Pilgrim hype. Just can’t be done. Except for grocery stores, merchants are mute when Thanksgiving rolls around.

Second, it highlights the home and family. Thanksgiving is synonymous with stuff that can be found only in a home—the warmth of a fireplace, early morning fussing around in the kitchen, kids and grandkids, phone calls to our roots, family reunions, singing around the piano.

Third, the holiday drips with national nostalgia. For me, even more so than the Fourth of July. Thanksgiving reminds us of a battle we won, giving us independence. This one takes us back to a simple slice of life over two hundred years ago when our forefathers and foremothers realized their dependence on each other to survive. With Thanksgiving comes a surge of renewed patriotism, a quiet inner peace that whispers, “I am proud to be an American.”

Fourth and finally, it turns our heads upward and we join our hearts with the psalmist:

Come, let us sing to the LORD! Let us shout joyfully to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come to him with thanksgiving. Let us sing psalms of praise to him.

PSALM 95:1–2

This week, capture a few moments for quietness. Don’t let it pass without investing some time alone. And, choosing your own way, look up and make a joyful noise to the Rock of your salvation. Thank Him, praise Him—the One from whom all blessings flow. It’s called Thanksgiving, remember, not Thanks keeping.