Thanksgiving thought of the week…. One Thing More — A Grateful Heart!

In honoring the memory of their son who was killed in World War II, the parents gave a sizable check to their church. When the presentation was made, a mother whispered to her husband, “Let’s give the same amount for our boy!” “What are you talking about?” asked the husband, “our boy didn’t lose his life!” “Ah,” said the wife, “that’s just the point! Let’s give it as an expression of our gratitude to God for sparing his life!”

George Herbert prayed: “Our Father, Thou hast given us so much. Do please give us one more thing — a grateful heart!” —W.B.K.

As we near Thanksgiving I believe most of us are thankful. However, I wonder what percentage of us are content. I do know contentment is a word you seldom hear.

Thomas Watson, the most quotable of the Puritans, wrote a great book entitled “The Art of Divine Contentment: An Exposition of Philippians.” In chapter 14, condensed and adapted below, Watson gave his “Christian directory” listing his rules of contentment.

During this Thanksgiving season, it might be beneficial to us all not only to read them but also to put them into practice.

Rule 1: Advance faith. All our disquiets issue from unbelief. O set faith a-work! It is the property of faith to silence our doubting, to scatter our fears, to still the heat when the passions are up. Faith works the heart to a sweet serene composure. It is not having food and raiment, but having faith, which will make us content. Faith sucks the honey of contentment out of the hive of the promise.

Rule 2: Labor for Assurance. He who can say, “I know whom I have believed”—that man has enough to give his heart contentment. If any thing in the world is worth laboring for, it is to get sound evidences that God is ours. If this be once cleared, what can come amiss? No matter what storms I meet, so that I know where to put in for harbor. He that has God to be his God is so well contented with his condition that he does not much care whether he has anything else.

Rule 3: Get a Humble Spirit. The humble man is the contented man. He does not say his comforts are small, but his sins are great. He thinks it is mercy he is out of hell; therefore, he is contented. A proud man is never contented; he is one that has a high opinion of himself, therefore under small blessings is disdainful, under small crosses impatient. The humble spirit is the contented spirit; if his cross be light, he reckons it the inventory of his mercies; if it be heavy, yet he takes it upon his knees, knowing that when his estate is worse, it is to make him better.

Rule 4: Keep a Clear Conscience. Contentment is the manna that is laid up in the ark of good conscience. Oh, take heed of indulging any sin! It is as natural for guilt to breed disquiet as for putrid matter to breed vermin. Would you have a quiet heart? Get a smiling conscience.

Rule 5: Learn to Deny Yourselves. Look well to your affections, bridle them in. Do two things; Mortify your desires; moderate your delights. Rule 6: Get Much

Rule 6: Get Much of Heaven into Your Heart. Spiritual things satisfy; the more of heaven is in us, the less earth will content us. He that has once tasted the love of God, his thirst is much quenched toward sublunary things; the joys of God’s Spirit are heart-filling and heartcheering joys; he that has these, has heaven begun in him. Seek those things which are above. Fly aloft in your affections, thirst after the graces and comforts of the Spirit; the eagle that flies above in the air, fears not the stinging of the serpent.

Rule 7: Look Not So Much on the Dark Side of Your Condition, as on the Light. The pillar of cloud had its light side and dark; look on the light side of the estate. Suppose you are in a lawsuit, there is the dark side; yet you have some land left, there is the light side. You have sickness in your body, there is the dark side; but grace in your soul, there is the light side. You have a child taken away, there is the dark side; your husband lives, there is the light side. Look on the light side of your condition, and then all your discontents will easily disband; do not pore upon your losses, but ponder upon your mercies.

Rule 8: Consider in What a Posture We Stand in the World. We are soldiers; a soldier is content with anything though he has not his stately house, his rich furniture, his soft bed, his full table, yet he does not complain. We are pilgrims, in the world but not of the world. We are beggars at heaven’s gate, begging this day for our daily bread.

Rule 9: Let Us Often Compare Our Condition. Let us compare our condition with others; and this will make us content. Am I in prison? Was not Daniel in a worse place in the lion’s den? Do I live in a mean cottage? Read of the primitive saints, that they wandered in sheep and goatskins, of whom the world was not worthy. Let us compare our condition with Christ’s upon earth. What a poor condition was He pleased to be in for us; for you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor. Let us compare our condition with what it shall be shortly. God may presently seal a warrant for death to apprehend us; and when we die we cannot carry estate with us; honor and riches descent not into the grave, why then are we troubled at our outward condition?

Rule 10: Do Not Bring Your Condition to Your Mind, But Bring Your Mind to Your Condition. The way for a Christian to be content, is not by raising his estate higher, but by bringing his spirit lower; not by making his barns wider, but his heart narrower.

Rule 11: Study the Vanity of the Creature. The world is like a shadow that declines; it is delightful, but deceitful, promising more than we find. The world may be compared to ice, which is smooth but slippery.

Rule 12: Get Fancy Regulated. The water that springs out of the rock drinks as sweet as if it came out of a golden chalice. Things are as we fancy them. Ever since the Fall, the fancy is distempered; God saw that the imagination of the thoughts of his heart were evil. Fancy looks through wrong spectacles. Pray that God will sanctify your fancy. Could we cure a distempered fancy, we might soon conquer a discontented heart?

Rule 13: Consider How Little Will Suffice Nature. Christ taught us to pray for our daily bread. Nature is content with a little. Not to thirst or to starve is enough. Having food and raiment let us be content.

Rule 14: Believe the Present Condition is Best for Us. A wise Christian has his will melted into God’s will. God is wise. God knows which is the fittest pasture to put His sheep in; sometimes a more barren ground does well, whereas rank pasture may rot. Did we believe that condition best which God doth parcel out to us, we should cheerfully say, “The lines are fallen in pleasant places.”

Rule 15: Do Not Too Much Indulge the Flesh. The flesh is a worse enemy than the devil, it is a bosomtraitor, an enemy within. O let it not have the reins! Martyr the flesh! Keep it under! Put its neck under Christ’s yoke, stretch and nail it to His cross.

Rule 16: Meditate Much on the Glory Which Shall Be Revealed. There are great things laid up in heaven. It is but awhile and we shall be with Christ, bathing ourselves in the fountain of love; we shall never complain of wants and injuries anymore. The hope of this is enough to drive distempers from the heart. Blessed by God, it will be better.

Rule 17: Be Much in Prayer. Is any man afflicted? Let him pray. Is any man discontented? Let him pray. When the heart is filled with sorrow and disquiet, prayer lets out the bad blood. Prayer is a holy spell to drive away trouble; prayer is the unbosoming of the soul, the unloading of all our cares in God’s breast; and this ushers in sweet contentment. Paul could be in every state content, yet it was through Christ strengthening him.

Contentment is a great word and also a great way to live. May your Thanksgiving be filled with contentment.

I have not heard the term “pecking order” in many years. Recently Buddy Russell shared a story about the “Pecking order” of his growing up days. I hope our readers enjoy it as much as I did. It seemed especially appropriate for this Thanksgiving system.

Food has always been of major importance, and this was especially true during the Great Depression because it was so hard to come by. I don’t reckon we ever went hungry, but we sure ate a lot of cornbread and sawmill gravy. Daddy said we ate so much corn that when we sat down to eat, he didn’t know whether to ask the blessing or bray.

Being reared on a farm, we got a pretty good education on food and eating habits by watching the animals. When eating, animals have a pecking order: the most dominant eats first.

Throw down a block of hay, the boss cow gets it. Throw down some more, and she’ll go oneto-the-other, picking out the best for herself. The moral here was: get the first and best for yourself, if you can.

Our old sow had a big litter of pigs and a dinner for each one, and when she lay down to feed them we watched as they pushed and shoved, trying to get theirs. If one couldn’t find his dinner, he’d run around squealing but was paid no mind. If he was crowded out for one meal, you could bet your bottom dollar he’s make sure to have a place at the next table. They taught us that sometimes you have to squeeze on in to get your part.

When we fed the chickens, and threw out plenty of feed, they all ate as fast as they could—no squabbles. But if there were just a little something, like watermelon rind, the ol’ rooster would stand in it with both feet, hogging it all. After he had his fill, the biggest hens would be next, then the others would slip up, grab a quick peck, and run. Sometimes when a hen caught a lizard or something too big to swallow while, all the other hens would take off after her, trying to grab it away. She’s run as fast as she could, holding her head way out, with the lizard dangling. When she got surrounded, another hen would grab it from her beak and away they’d go after her. Wore that poor lizard out before they ate it. We learned from the chickens to gobble it down quick when you get the chance.

We also learned early on that people have a pecking order, too. When company comes, men eat at the first table, women and girls at the second, and we boys at the last—and sometimes it would be mighty slim pickings, but we loved to visit our grandparents, third table or not. At our house, meal time was a fun time where we laughed, talked, and shared our experiences, but when we visited our Grandpa Jim there was no “cutting up”, as he called it. Children kept quiet at the table. He was of the old school who thought children should be seen and not heard, and I think it suited him if we weren’t seen too much, either.

When we visited our Grandpa Judd, it was like at home—a festive occasion, but the pecking order didn’t change there either. It was (1) men, (2) women and girls, and (3) boys. While the others were eating, we’d saunter through the dining room to see how the good stuff was holding out. They’d tell us to “just get out and hold your ‘tater,’ and they’d call us when it was time.

Several families had gathered at Pa Judd’s one Sunday and Nard and I, along with our cousins, were wishing our Grandma Lou would kill a big hen for chicken and dressing. But she didn’t. She was proud of her flock of chickens and protective, too. It was getting on toward dinnertime and it looked like more peas and ‘taters’, when the Lord smiled on us.

Pa lived on a gravel road which had practically no traffic, and Ma’s chickens would gather in the road to wallow and eat little pieces of rock for grit for their craw. They were gathered in the road when we heard a vehicle coming pretty fast. Ma was on the porch, wringing her hands, shooing her chickens to hurry and get out of the road.

We were pulling for the car: hurry, hurry, and run one over so we can have chicken and dressing! The car was coming, dust boiling up, and the chickens saw it and were streaming out of the road. Looked like we had lost out on our chicken and dressing.

Just when everything seemed lost, looking like Ma’s praying was going to win, one big ol’ red hen had gone out on the far side, then saw the rest of the flock going the other way, and she turned and started back across the road.

Ma was praying, “Oh, Lordy, run!” We were praying, “Hit her, hit her.”

They met about the middle of the road. Whoosh! All we could see was dust and feathers boiling up. When the dust settled, there lay the ol’ red hen, dead to the world. Ma wiped her eyes with her apron and said in a sad voice, “That was my best hen.” She called to us, “I want you all to come here and look at what you wanted to happen.” We stood solemnly, looking down at that ol’ red hen stretched out dead, and all we saw was a big pan of chicken and dressing.

Somebody said, “You can’t eat a chick that’s been run over like that.” Our hopes sank.

Somebody else said, “It won’t make any difference if you dress her real quick.” Our hope went up.

Ma said, “I couldn’t cook that hen. Throw her in the gully.” Our hopes disappeared. We didn’t have anybody to speak for us, so we knew it was “pass the peas”, and the way Ma looked, it would be might thick pea soup at that.

But we did learn something about how the Lord answers prayers. I don’t know what that ol’ red hen was praying for, but the Lord gave her a better place to scratch in. He answered our prayers to get her run over, then showed us we ought not to pray for things like that by not letting us get anything out of it.

As for Ma’s praying, at least she wouldn’t have to pray any more to keep that ol’ red hen from getting run over.