“Eucharisteo precedes the miracle.”
The book tells me this strange Greek word means, “Thanksgiving.”
Thanksgiving precedes the miracle.
It’s been a day and night of talking about the future in our home. Honest talks, hard talks. Talks of big changes, big needs, of questions marks looming large.
Will we be ready to meet them? Will we have the means to meet them?
The realization of our needs, the bigness of it all, is breathtaking. Taking my breath with it’s crushing weight, threatening to stifle life.
But eucharisteo precedes the miracle.
The giving thanks for what we do have, for the abundance that is ours today. Thankful for what will be, for the miracles that will be ours.
The greater the need, the greater the miracle will be to meet it. Where questions, what-ifs and uncertainty pile up, threatening to bury me in a mountain of worry, my only defense is the gratitude that whispers quiet in the heart.
To whom much is given, much is expected. And I have been given much.
A house made a home by love, laughter, and warmth.
A provider, protector, soul-friend and lover-husband.
A full fridge and stocked cupboards and bursting closets.
Friends who care about the heart of me more than the look of me.
Healthy family in every sense of the word.
Hope of a perfect life to come.
Eucharisteo precedes the miracle.
So I give thanks, for what is and what will be. I humbly bow my head in gratitude for life, with all its valleys and peaks. The life that is mine.
This season of Thanksgiving, of Eucharisteo, I whisper thanks into the uncertain future with hands wide open, ready to receive miracles.
What are you thankful for this season? What miracles are you waiting to see happen?