let's hear it for the lord

Ah thank you God for the deep azure perfection of the sky at dawn over the Wicklow mountains with the fine sweep of cloud tinged into a tapestry of gold by the glorious firstlings of the sun.
Thank you God for the sighing breeze passing like a ghost through treetop and hedgerow, and wending its way like destiny across the eternal fields.
Thank you God for the sound of a thousand unseen birds singing creation into being this morning as they have done every morning since the beginning of time.
Thank you God for the lissom stirrings of the grasses.
Thank you God for the sheep baaing like a choir of praise and the bullocks belling a response.
Thank you God for the clarion call of life through the town of Kilcullen each morning, the sound of machinery from the building sites, traffic from the road, and the sweet anarchic laughter of the teenagers making their way to school.
Thank you God for the kiss of consciousness as I waken.
Thank you God for my sublime genius, which I might pretend not to have noticed because of my sublime modesty, but come on, who are we kidding here.
Thank you God for the pristine whiteness of the apple blossoms in the garden of my father.
Thank you God for plum trees.
Thank you God for Paddy Pup stealing the Dad's sandwich off the table which the Dad had rather foolishly left there while he was on the phone, and then the Dad nearly having a canniption, and bursting out with the classic line "the dog's after taking my bloody sandwich," only he didn't say bloody, and to which I replied "he likes those," but really Lord it was hilarious.
Thank you God for Esmerelda my car and for her miraculously passing her road worthiness test.
Thank you God for all children, the kids are great Lord, the kids will save the world.
Thank you God for Aunty Eileen from Boston saying "every child should have an Uncle James."
Thank you God for my Yoga loving sister Marie coming in from the Bridge Club and groaning: "The women are starting to call me Yogic Marie because of your blasted website," only she didn't say blasted, and truly Lord I'll take my readers wherever I can get them.
Thank you God for the sight of the Mediterranean filled with mystic fire as the plane banked left over Roma on my first visit to Italy, and all praise to you Lord, the impression of supernatural beauty in the earthly world struck through to the core of my being, and I never forgot it.
Thank you God for the bluebells scattered through the Hill Wood in Monasterevin.
Thank you God for the chicken and broccoli bake special in the Chat & Chew restaurant Newbridge, which you will normally find me munching of a Wednesday afternoon while meditating on the vicissitudes of existence.
Thank you God for Aunty Mary's hens performing Bach's fugue in D minor, and if that shower of fuguers wake me up again at 5am, deeply spiritual soul or no, I'll kill em all one by one.
Thank you God for Harvey hedgehog shambling out of the flowerbed, looking at me expectantly for some cornflakes.
Thank you God for the struggle.
Thank you God for Luisella and her classic one liner "the Pope is right James, you are too conservative."
Thank you God for the unpredicatability of artist Divya Sharma from India, the feistiness of language professor Crisps Gonzalez from Spain, the political insights of my adviser on international affairs Lu Yi from China, and the plot twists provided by my KGB contact Valentina Sexanova from Russia, and thanks for all the international brigade who just make life so goshdarned interesting, and er, please God don't let the Russian one kill me.
Thank you God for renewal in the spirit.
Thank you God for the stillness before divine mercy.
Thank you God for showing me limitless power in the actions of people I would have thought were hopelessly weak.
Thank you God for the paintings of Josephine Hardiman particularly her snow scenes which are nearly as good as yours.
Thank you God for the bit in the Bible where Saint Paul has a row with Barnabas and the two of them go their separate ways, because I often find your followers insufferable Lord, and it's kind of reassuring to know Saint Paul had the same problem, and that other people had the same problem with Saint Paul, and it's funny that so much of our pain comes from people, and yet in truth when we move beyond the pain, we see people are the glory of the creation.
Thank you God for Spanish Diana glaring at the occupants of a car that pulled into the kerb on Main Street Madrid right in front of us because she thought it nearly hit us just as we were about to cross the road, and her shouting at the car in fluent Spanish lingo, and me crying out to her "stop that you Spanish loon, we're in Spain, those people might be Spanish like you, they might have hot Spanish blood, you know better than to shout at Spanish people," and Lord I'm hilarious when I'm terrified.
Thank you God for the warm embrace of Ireland welcoming me home whenever I ramble.
Thank you God for the gregarious good nature of the Irish which is a light for the nations.
Thank you God for Bushy Squirrel peering in the kitchen window at Mount Carmel.
Thank you God for robins.
Thank you God for the swallows swooping around me this evening to tell me they were about to return to Africa.
Thank you God for the evening shadows lengthening through the garden, and the play of light on the roses, and the touch of memory that sunset brings.
Thank you God for the hour of victories.
Thank you God for the prayer "Jesus you are perfect love and perfect love casts out fear."
Thank you God for the Lutherans, in particular Pastor Wurmbrand whom I believe you have told me I will meet in heaven, and Lord they're the finest.
Thank you God for the Mammy surfing the internet on the computer, and Lord finally I believe in miracles.
Thank you God for the thrill of night with the sky full of a million stars and the gospel shiver of wind in the trees.
Thank you God for the ancient faith.
Thank you God for the three years of Jesus public ministry and the mystery of his hidden life.
Thank you God for the three months of Aunty Marie's public ministry and the mystery of her hidden life.
Thank you God for Father Supple.
Thank you God for my father's friends the three Foley brothers from Blessington, all of whom became priests serving you in the mission fields with their unique mix of good humour and craggy Wicklow mountains toughness, Father Paddy in Nigeria, Father Gerry in Kenya and Father Michael in Trinidad, and grant them long life Lord, and bless them forever.
Thank you God for Sister Lelia, Sister Gemma, Padre Peter and all the crazy heroes.
Thank you God for the Pope, and Lord he has a hard act to follow.
Thank you God for you.