God, amid football, family, and too much food, we pause quickly and without inconvenience to remember and to thank. We thank you for our wealth and our safety, and are aware of how close to poverty we are and how under threat we live. We gladly affirm that "All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above," but we yield to none in a sense of self-sufficiency, our weariness in needing to share, our resentfulness of those who take and do not give. Move through our half measure of thanks and let us be, all through this day, more risky in acknowledging that we have nothing except what you give. Amen.
- Adapted from "At Thanksgiving," in Prayers for a Privileged People by Walter Brueggemann.