Midweek Musing 6/17/2026
- Jun 28
- 4 min read
All Good Gifts – Midweek Musing 6-17-2036
There are certain songs that seem to show up every year right on schedule.
For some people it’s Christmas carols in December. For others it’s beach music when summer arrives. For some it’s the marching band playing your team’s fight song during football season.
For me, one of those songs is All Good Gifts from the musical Godspell.
Every year, about the time gardens begin producing and tomatoes start appearing on kitchen counters, I find myself humming it.
Sometimes it’s while watering plants.
Sometimes it’s while mowing grass.
Sometimes it’s while standing in the yard admiring something I had absolutely nothing to do with except putting a tiny seed in the ground and hoping for the best.
As anyone who has gardened knows, there is always a little or maybe a lot of hope involved. You plant. You water. You wait. Then you wonder if squirrels, rabbits, insects, drought, disease, or your own forgetfulness are going to ruin everything.
And yet somehow, against all odds, a seed becomes a tomato.
A tiny seed becomes a cucumber.
A patch of dirt becomes a part of your dinner plate.
When you stop and think about it, that’s a miracle.
Now I have loved Godspell for years, but I recently learned something I somehow made it this far in life without knowing.
The song All Good Gifts didn’t begin with Godspell at all.
Its roots go back to a German poem written in 1782 by Matthias Claudius after sharing a meal with a friend. Inspired by Psalm 65, Claudius wrote a poem celebrating God’s provision through the ordinary gifts of the earth. Over time it became a beloved hymn, and nearly two centuries later it found new life in Godspell.
Apparently, I was this many years old when I finally discovered that.
I suppose that proves you can learn something new every day.
What struck me most about that history is how little the central message has changed.
In the time the Psalms were written people depended on crops.
In 1782, people depended on crops.
Today many of us depend on grocery stores.
But all the food in there depends on crops.
Thus, the truth underneath all of this remains the same.
Every good gift still comes from God.
The air we breathe.
The water we drink.
The food on our tables.
The people we love.
The beauty of a mountain stream.
The shade of a tree.
The tomatoes growing in a backyard garden. (Or in laundry crates on our front porch. We found the idea on social media and amazingly it worked.)
All of it is gift.
And when we recognize life as gift, the most natural response is gratitude.
Scripture repeatedly calls us to give thanks because gratitude changes how we see the world. Instead of assuming everything belongs to us, gratitude reminds us that everything has first been given to us.
But gratitude is never meant to stop with a simple “thank you.”
Indeed, Biblical gratitude always leads somewhere.
It leads to stewardship.
Yes, the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it. The world belongs to God. Yet from the beginning, God has entrusted its care to us.
That means our gratitude should shape our actions.
Sometimes that means supporting efforts that protect the environment.
Sometimes it means conserving water by turning off the faucet while brushing our teeth.
Sometimes it means recycling, planting a tree, combining trips to reduce emissions, or simply being less wasteful than we might otherwise be.
None of us can do everything.
But all of us can do something.
We can do the good that is ours to do.
That phrase has become increasingly important to me over the years.
The problems facing our world can feel overwhelming. Climate concerns, pollution, habitat loss, and environmental degradation are issues so large that they can leave us wondering whether our individual efforts matter at all.
But faith has never required us to solve every problem.
Faith simply asks us to be faithful.
To do the good that is ours to do.
To care for what has been placed in our hands.
To leave things a little better than we found them.
To act in ways that reflect our gratitude for God’s gifts.
Perhaps that is one reason I keep coming back to that song every All Good Gifts summer.
Because beneath its simple melody lies a profound truth.
Every tomato in the garden.
Every flower in bloom.
Every meal shared with family.
Every sunrise.
Every breath.
Every good gift.
All are reminders of God’s generosity.
And our response is not only to give thanks.
It is to live thankfully.
So, the next time you bite into a homegrown tomato, pause for a moment.
Offer a prayer of gratitude.
Then ask yourself what good is yours to do.
And perhaps do it.
After all, generations yet to come deserve clean air, clear mountain streams, fertile soil, and the simple joy of a tomato picked warm from the vine.
Thanks be to God, from whom all good gifts come.
Alleluia Amen.
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