Too often I’m consumed with the thirty things going on in my head. I’m one of those people who cannot turn their brain off. It’s difficult for me to settle, to not be preoccupied. My son gets annoyed because I can’t watch a television show without doing something else, anything. When I’m out and about, I’m focused, usually on a mission to accomplish whatever task I set out to do.
I can walk right past you in the street and chances are I may not see you.
It’s a terrible habit, a frame of mind. If I see you and speak to you, it’s because I’m being deliberate. I’m shutting down most of the tabs open in my mind and I’m focusing on you. I don’t do that often enough. I don’t see people enough. I don’t always have the insight to hear their problems, feel their pain, know their need.
This is the season of Thanksgiving. Thanks produces giving. Out of a heart filled with abundance to overflowing, comes the gifts.
I want to have a heart that overflows with love, joy, mercy, goodness, and grace. I want to give my love with abandon. In our world, in this land, we’re just superficial enough to always associate giving with money, but not everyone needs our dollar. Some do and we should give it, but others, what they really need, is so much more than a dirty old piece of paper. They need us. They need us to notice them, to love them.
But whoso hath this world’s good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him.
~ 1 John 3:17-19
We want the world to know that we’re people of faith. We want them to hear our story, to listen to our truth, but if we don’t see their need and have compassion on them, we can talk all we want and no one will hear. Love is an action word.
If we don’t have love, we have nothing.
I am filled to overflowing with Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for. I can count my thanks on paper, giving each line a number. I can pass the turkey and utter my praise. I can assign each day on the calendar an item worthy of rejoicing. I can shout my thanks from the rooftop and write it on my Facebook status, but out of thanks comes giving.