I am reading through and editing my second book right now before I turn it over to Ashlyn for redacting. I ran across this poem that Buck wrote one Thanksgiving and thought I would share it with you, Friends. Interestingly I had taken up oil painting for a season. The lesson I learned or the deeper meaning was that "I try to paint You into my creations instead of You revealing me in Yours."
For These Things
Thank You Lord!
Three little words
that so often vacate this disciple’s lips.
I have too much to
ask for,
So much I want.
To say thank you
shouldn’t be just a season.
Like Peter’s stormy
waves,
I see so much about
which to worry,
So much to fear-
Visas, relocations,
job changes.
Yet I’m thankful for
these things, God
Like Thomas’s
infantile demands,
I want the tangible,
And I want it now.
CPM- even a few
church plants will do
Yet I’m thankful that
You allow me to live where few have.
Like Judas’s skewed
vision,
I try to paint You
into my creations
Instead of You
revealing me in Yours.
O Wretched Man That I
Am,
O Thankful Man.
While I sit down to
honor tradition this year,
God, let me truly
offer my thanks.
You’ve granted me the
best this life has to offer.
You’ve given me the
best ones to live it with.
You’ve prepared a
table for me in the presence of those once called enemies.
And for these things
I give You thanks.
