What I find distinct about gratitude in the wilderness is its simplicity -- the thankfulness I feel here is for what I usually take for granted: my capacity to breathe, move and see ... For the most part, gratitude here wells up unexpectedly, in the quiet corners of the day, over events small and ordinary. Gratitude is the other side of dependence on God: to take anything for granted in the wilderness seems presumptuous, blasphemous. And so, here in these naves of vaulting stone, prayers of thanksgiving begin to edge out prayers of petition.
I know not how Thou singest ...
I ever listen in silent amazement.
The light of Thy music illumines the world.
The life breath of Thy music runs from sky to sky.
The holy stream of Thy music breaks through all stony obstacles
and rushes on.
My heart longs to join in Thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice.
I would speak but speech breaks not into song,
and I cry out baffled.
Ah, Thou has made my heart captive in the endless meshes of my music ...