George Henry Broughton (1833-1905), Pilgrims Going to Church
On this Thanksgiving Day, I'm counting my blessings, and I'm thankful for . . .
the years of life that God has given me.
having been born to God-fearing parents who left me a goodly Christian heritage, rearing me to love God, too.
having been born in the United States, which, despite its many problems, is the freest nation in the world.
my wife of more than 46 years and my best friend.
my four daughters, their husbands, and the eight grandchildren they've given me.
the Bible, which has been "a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path" (Ps. 119:105 ).
the instruction, comfort, encouragement, and fellowship of a good, Bible-focused church family.
a peaceful neighborhood in which I am surrounded by good neighbors.
the opportunities I've had (and am still enjoying) to pursue my research and share it in published writings and personal speaking engagements.
good health (in spite of my tendency to overindulge in sweets and breads and my aversion to regular strenuous exercise).
The list of things for which I'm thankful is inexhaustible, but space and time are not, so I must let these blessings symbolize all the other blessings God has so graciously heaped upon me. It's always humbling but encouraging to count one's blessings. I have life so much better than many others, and yet how often I fail to consider that fact. Instead, my tendency--and that of most of us, if we're honest about it--is to complain rather than to be thankful.
The apostle Paul wrote to Timothy that unthankfulness would be one sign of the last days (2 Tim. 3:2). And Dr. Bob Jones Sr. often said, "When gratitude dies on the altar of a man's heart, that man is well nigh hopeless."
I hope that you and I can regularly remember to thank God for all He's given us and done for us, most certainly for loving us enough to send His Son, Jesus Christ, to pay the penalty for our sins by dying on the cross. That is without doubt the greatest blessing of all on this Thanksgiving Day.