Grateful.
“Grateful.” What kind of a title is that for a blog in July? Thanksgiving is still four months away for heaven’s sake.
Let me explain.
The funniest thing happened on my way to Cape Charles, Va. today. I was finally off of Interstate 64 (now, that’s something to be grateful for) and had just exited the toll booth for the CBBT (Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel—in case you aren’t from this area). I had the radio on for company and noticed that the station was playing something unexpected.
WAIT! I know this piece of music. It’s my favorite Thanksgiving song, “Bless This House.” Seriously, who plays a traditional Thanksgiving song on a hot day at the end of July? I’ve heard of Christmas is July but not Thanksgiving. Is this someone’s idea of a joke at the radio station?
Oh, who cares? I sing along, and as I do so, wonderful recollections of holidays from yesteryear fill my thoughts. Immediately, I’m transported back to my childhood and am at my Grandmother Carlton’s house, sitting on the couch and listening to a vinyl record being played on her ginormous stereo console. Perry Como, accompanied by an orchestra, a back-up choir, and my grandmother, is singing “Bless This House.”
Precious memories.
Even after the music on the radio has ended, I silently recite the lyrics of this song.
Bless this house, oh Lord, we pray.
Make it safe by night and day.
Bless these walls so firm and stout,
Keeping want and trouble out.
Bless the roof and chimneys tall.
Let thy peace lie overall.
Bless this door that it may prove
Ever open to joy and love.
Bless these windows shining bright,
Letting in God's Heavenly light.
Bless the hearth, a-blazing there
With smoke ascending like a prayer!
Bless the folks who dwell within.
Keep them pure and free from sin.
Bless us all that we may be
Fit, oh Lord, to dwell with Thee.
Bless us all that one day we
May dwell, oh Lord, with Thee!
(Words by Helen Taylor, 1927)
As a child, I remember asking my grandmother if this song was about God’s house or a regular house. She chuckled and said, “I reckon it could be about both.” She was right of course. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to sit in Grandmother Carlton’s living room and listen to her sing this song again.
Today, I decide to stop whining about the July heat and humidity long enough to thank God for the many blessings that He has richly bestowed upon me and my family. During this brief respite from weather-related complaints, I pause to reflect on my parents’ provision of a house with stout walls, a roof, and bright windows. And I make a mental list of the many important lessons that my grandparents taught me on special holidays and regular days. I’m so very blessed. And grateful.
Thanksgiving in July. That works for me.