"The world is full of suffering indeed, and to turn our backs on it is to work a terrible unkindness maybe almost more on ourselves than on the world. But life indeed is also to be enjoyed. I suspect that may even be the whole point of it. I more than suspect that is why all the sons of God shouted for joy when he first brought it into being. And if that is the case, then the old woman playing shuffleboard in the sun and the young man standing in line with his children to get into Disney World are in their own ways praising God as truly as when they are serving supper in a shelter for the homeless or driving off at two thirty in the morning to answer the panicky phone call of an alcoholic friend."
- Frederick Buechner, Telling Secrets
Leave it to F. Buechner to drop a few lines like that near the very end of a very small book. If some of his words are the case, and I suspect they may be, then God is praised in many and varied ways, eh?
The young husband standing at the finish line when his young wife finishes her first marathon is praising God.
The boy running an in open field with his dog flushing birds is praising God.
The middle aged woman sitting in the chair receiving a pedicure is praising God.
The mother who will spend hours in the kitchen preparing a Thanksgiving feast is praising God.
The sisters swinging ever higher and higher on the school playground are praising God.
The crossing guard who valiantly ushers the children across a dangerous intersection is praising God.
The young woman finishing her first marathon, the dog flushing birds in an open field, the lady administering a pedicure as well as conversation to a middle aged woman, the family that will gather around a table and hold hands and say grace, the father watching his girls swing ever higher and higher, the children laughing and carrying backpacks on their way to school - they are all praising God.
God, forgive me for holding to a definition of praise that is too narrow, one that only works in a building somewhere and only if certain words are said. If I would just be still and know, the very rocks are crying out.
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