Bring ye all your tithes into the storehouse...

Bring ye all your tithes into the storehouse…
There were certain immutable unchanging rituals in our little Baptist church… twice a year revivals, the Lord’s Supper once every three months, immersion baptism, once a month business meetings, and once a year Pledge Sunday in the fall. We sang “Bring Ye All Ye Tithes into the Storehouse”, listened to Brother Kannon exhort us to give a tenth, passed in the little promise cards and moved on to regular church the next Sunday. There were no long, drawn out campaigns, special speakers or programs, just a simple guilt inducing sermon and pass the plate, please. Everyone did what they could and we managed. I remember the year Daddy got upset with the Southern Baptist Convention and asked Brother Kannon to keep his tithe in our church. They had a long discussion about the why’s and wherefore’s but his request was honored. The Baptist tradition of priesthood of the believer can get messy sometimes when the believers don’t all believe the same things. In this season when the hay is in the barn and the garden has been harvested, I am choosing to tithe my blessings. I began counting them this week and they are as plentiful as the weed seeds in the pasture.
I give thanks for the perfectly beautiful dew laden spider webs in the maple tree by the barn. In the morning as I walk down, they sparkle and remind me of the paradox of simplicity and complexity in nature, and my life. When a strand is broken, the spider reweaves the web, repairs what is broken and moves back to the center to wait. When the web in my life has broken in the past year, with God’s help, I have been able to restore the broken strands and I am grateful.
The cool morning air gives the horses and donkeys extra get in their get along. They come out of the stalls racing and kicking the kinks out in joyful abandon. I laugh to see the little donkeys’ legs move up and down, straight kneed, as they race to the hay pile. Junie B stops to give me a little love nip and nudge on her way to the pasture and we stand with my head laid on her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of horse. For that one moment, all is well in my world and I give thanks for the love of animals that enriches my life.
Michael and I sit on our bedroom deck moonwatching. It is so close that if I climbed the dead locust tree, I believe I could reach out and touch it. The silver light streams over the world we see and rests on us in benediction blessing. I count our blessings… forty three years of marriage, three children, seven soon to be eight grandchildren, a life together that has not always been easy but has always been good, a homeplace here in these old mountains with friends who are family, and the abiding presence of God in our lives.
Autumn is my season of remembering…remembering those I loved who have died, the warmth of the summer season of work and play, the laughter and tears that came my way, the blessed gift of my life as I enter the season of old age, and the memories of my journey towards God that began so many years ago as a little child at church. I tithe my memories and my gratitude is endless. Thanks be to the Great Gift Giver, the One who brought me into being, the Love that has never let me go. I pray that I will be as generous in my gratitude as God has been generous in my life. Let me live my life, God, with open hands and open heart, able to receive and give in equal measure, balanced in grace and gratitude. Amen.