Thank you, Lord God, for the gift of life, and for the gift of death.
Thank you, Lord God, for the gift of health, and for the gift of sickness.
Thank you for hunger and thirst. Thank you for exhaustion. Thank you for pain, short and sharp, dull and ever-present, for burning agonies and for invisible, shredding, crushing, tearing anguish.
Thank you, Lord God, for food and drink, that satisfy for a time only.
Thank you, Lord God, for sleep and the troubled dreams that come with it, for the oblivion of unconsciousness and the awakening that comes all too soon.
Thank you, Lord God, for the relief from suffering, incomplete and temporary.
Thank you, Lord God, for family and fellowship, broken and dysfunctional, contrary and troublesome, with the secrets, the lies, the cover-ups, all the partly completed but never fulfilled promises of love and caring and support. Thank you for the incompleteness and inadequacy of we broken humans to meet the needs of our families, separately and collectively.
Thank you that we can still, despite our own failure, still be families, still be mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters, and that we can still love one another even in our anger and outrage and hurt for the myriad injuries we do to one another.
Thank you, Lord God, for the troubles of this life, that let us know that it is not enough, that it is not good enough, that it is irreplaceable, and that it is beyond our power to return life that has been taken away.
Thank you for that life which you give us. Thank you that you died to show us how important it is, and how deep the extent of your love for us and for your creation.