Now thank we all our God

On this day before Thanksgiving, my mind turns to songs of thanks. Here’s a wonderful one After quoting the song, I’ll tell the story behind it.

Now thank we all our God
With heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things hath done,
In whom His world rejoices;
Who, from our mother’s arms,
Hath blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love,
And still is ours today.

O may this bounteous God
Through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
And blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in His grace,
And guide us when perplexed,
And free us from all ills
In this world and the next.

All praise and thanks to God
The Father now be given,
The Son, and Him who reigns
With them in highest heaven.
The one eternal God,
Whom earth and heaven adore;
For thus it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.

Martin Rinkart (1586-1659) wrote this hymn of thanks in the closing days of the Thirty Years War. A pastor in the walled city of Ellenberg, he saw all the other pastors either die or flee. The city became overrun with refugees, causing famine and epidemics—one of them, in 1637, killing 8,000 people including Rinkart’s wife. He personally conducted 4480 funerals, sometimes as many as 50 a day. (This reminds me of the burden on pastors in southern Africa in this present AIDS crisis there.) Three times Ellenberg was besieged, once by the Austrian army and twice by the Swedish army. And yet, this hymn reflects Rinkart’s confidence in God’s providence, despite the perplexities and ills hinted at in stanza two. (If you worship in a church that follows a liturgy, you’ll recognize the final stanza as a version of the familiar Gloria Patri.)

And now, since I’m not sure I’ll have access to the internet for the next several days, I’ll quote stanza two of a Thanksgiving hymn that I often heard sung in Swedish as a little girl:
Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered;
Thanks for what Thou dost deny;
Thanks for storms that I have weathered;
Thanks for all Thou dost supply.
Thanks for pain and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair;
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare.

I watched my parents and grandparents live that bold thankfulness in their daily lives.

My chemo yesterday went well and I’m feeling fine. Thanks for praying. My hemoglobin has dropped to 9.9, so I should have gotten a shot for it, but that required pre-approval from the insurance company, which takes 24 to 48 hours. Can’t wait for it, so I’ll just deal with it until next Tuesday when I’m scheduled again for chemo. We can pray against the fatigue. Good news: the white cell count improved by .5! (That’s the one that really would prevent treatment if it dropped too low.)

We’re leaving in a few minutes for our long drive to Indiana, trusting God for safety.

Love,
Carol … for Chuck too