Morning Thank-yous

Thank you for green filaments waving in the breeze on this hot day, 
for silver sunlight filtered through gray overcast skies, 
for the solid round edges of mangoes still ripening, 
hanging pregnantly from bowed branches,
and for those that have turned to gold and fallen 
to thirsty earth to make new wine and maybe children.

Thank you for trees that sing glory as I walk to work,
each flower individual in its watercolor hues:
themes of white, cream and yellow, rose and bright melon;
shower-of-gold blossoms like bunches of grapes;
 all of them  testimony to your infinite imagination,
artistic virtuosity far beyond our imitations.

Thank  you for soul music in the deeps of night
when thoughts carouse and wonder and weep;
you caress my distressed mind and stir in confidence
in your great story, the one that is not finished yet,
that holds my dear ones in your constant grip
and patiently designs a future filled with hope.

Thank you for reminding me this morning via mangoes,
and frangipani season and the gift of nature’s colors
and air movement in these pressured steamy moments,
that you are always here and there and everywhere;
your banner over us is love, and you delight in our appreciation
of the masterpieces you are creatively, constantly painting.

Yes, it has been hot and humid this past week in Côte d’Ivoire, and it’s easy to just notice the sweat rolling off my forehead and the heat rash starting to flare up. On the other hand, there is beauty and hope everywhere. I just need to pay attention. We are about to fly away out of it into the cold winter of Michigan, so I have been reminded to relish the things I’m going to miss—like mangoes, and the tree flowers, and birdsong concerts every sunrise hour.

This was all underlined last week when one of my  young African friends asked me why I had chosen my Nyarafolo name, the one that people love to call me whenever I am here. I knew why she was wondering. My name, Penyuɔnɔkuɔ, has a negative meaning. It is the short form of a well-known proverb: “You help people but then they forget to be grateful.” I had wondered the same thing—why that name?—when my women friends decided to give it to me, decades ago, because my foreign name “Linn” was too difficult, not familiar. So I had asked, “Why that one? I wanted a good one like Glenn’s!” (His name, Kajuʔulosori, means that he doesn’ hold grudges!) My friends answered: “It is a good name, because it’s so true!” They are going to love Ecclesiastes.

I had to process the relevance of that meaning for a while. Then, as I was reading the Word, I began to notice how many time my new name was echoed in the Scriptures. God would help people, but they would forget to to thank him! So I started writing “Penyuɔnɔkuɔ” beside those verses. Yes, that name was very meaningul in this world!

You deserted the Rock, who fathered you; you forgot the God who gave you birth. (Deut. 32:18 NIV)

. . . they did not keep God’s covenant and refused to live by his law. ¹¹ They forgot what he had done, the wonders he had shown them. (Ps. 78:10 NIV)

He saved them from the hand of the foe; from the hand of the enemy he redeemed them. ¹¹ The waters covered their adversaries; not one of them survived. ¹² Then they believed his promises and sang his praise. ¹³ But they soon forgot what he had done and did not wait for his plan to unfold.  (Ps. 106:10-13 NIV)

When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me. (Hos. 13:6 NIV)

That is a sampling. But those verses show how dangerous it is to forget what God has done and all the ways he has blessed us. It is not just a matter of forgetting to say “thank you!” The negligence leads to a lack of attachment to the God who provides, and saves, and guides all because he is the One who pays attention to us and loves us. We wander off into despair, seeing only the darkness in the world around us, not even considering our need to “wait for his plan to unfold.”(Psa. 106:13).

Noticing creation’s beauty gives us a daily step into gratitude. When we practice it, we can learn to notice the other things our Father is doing in our lives, our communities, our world as well. It is not only the magnificence of the sky and bits of the universe shining in it, or the stunning mountains or the cute animals. It is paying attention to meaningful words and actions.

As we were saying our goodbyes to Ferke friends this past weekend, we were showered with thank-yous, sometimes about things we didn’t remember doing. Other times it was just touching to find out that some act had been noticed. And when we thanked the friend who brought us her home-made peanut butter as a gift, and the taxi-driver who took me to and from work each day with no fee (serving his real Master), and the little boy who saw me gazing at the golden rain tree blossoms so climbed up and pulled off a bunch for me—each one of their faces lit up with happiness. The gratitude showed them that they were noticed and appreciated.

That is the least we can do for the King of the Universe. In spite of the chaos all around and personal suffering and disappointments, we must express thanks for ways we see his hand at work. I tell myself: Make a list when you wake up, or when you take your walk or drive to work, or when you are cooking or sweeping, or when you are ready for bed. What has been a hint or a neon sign that declared the Lord’s kindness today? Then we can say “thank you!” and experience that uplift that we need. Yes, he is near. Yes, he is good. Yes, he is at work! And we are so privileged to be attached to him!