Atheist Bart Ehrman: “I have no-one to express my sense of gratitude to. This is a deep void inside me, a void of wanting someone to thank…”
G.K. Chesterton: “We thank people for birthday presents of cigars and slippers. Can I thank no one for the birthday present of birth?”
Don’t you ever wonder why
In spite of all that’s wrong here
There’s still so much that goes so right
And beauty abounds?
‘Cause sometimes when you walk outside
The air is full of song here
The thunder rolls and the baby sighs
And the rain comes down
And when you see the spring has come
And it warms you like a mother’s kiss
Don’t you want to thank someone?
Don’t you want to thank someone for this?
Advertisements
Oh, this is so beautiful. Wow, Andrew Peterson is such an incredible poet.
And this part: “Don’t you ever wonder why/ In spite of all that’s wrong here/ There’s still so much that goes so right/ And beauty abounds?” We were *just* talking about that last night… How it’s a white world with black spots, not a black world with white spots (Chesterton). That it’s being redeemed, NOT discarded.
We were *just* talking about that last night… How it’s a white world with black spots, not a black world with white spots (Chesterton). That it’s being redeemed, NOT discarded.
If you could only see me grinning right now… ;)
Gotta love AP…he has such a way with words. I love the fact that this song is a response to the opening song of that album, “Come Back Soon”:
If nature’s red in tooth and in claw
Then it seems to me that she’s an outlaw
‘Cause every death is a question mark
At the end of the book of a beating heart
And the answer is scrawled in the silent dark
On the dome of the sky in a billion stars
But we cannot read these angel tongues
And we cannot stare at the burning sun
And we cannot sing with these broken lungs
So we kick in the womb and we beg to be born
Deliverance!
Deliverance, O Lord!
Indeed. Next to “Carry the Fire”, this one is my favorite off that album.
They are both excellent.
New AP convert here. Love the theme of this song. In the rush and busy of our lives, sometimes the most precious gifts are the smallest, and are the ones that go unthanked. I always pity the poor athiests of this world, who, feeling thankful, have no one to thank.