Thankful for the Sunshine

words and music by Doug Howell (24 Sep 1976)

I’m thankful for the sunshine
shining through the trees
I’m thankful for the rainbows
the blues and greens, and in-betweens
I’m thankful for the moonbeams
and every dream come true
I’m thankful for the sparkle
in drops of morning dew

but most of all I want to thank You for
the joy within my heart
let the storm clouds frown on me
I’ll just smile and let it be
I’m thankful for the sunshine
thankful for Your love

I’m thankful for the wildflowers
and every butterfly—You’ve got such an eye
for making things that make me
smile a smile, and every mile
I’m thankful for the people
You’ve let me come to know
I’m always making new friends
everywhere I go

1979 Notes

One of the songs Dad used to request quite often was “Five Foot Two.” So I guess it was inevitable that someday I’d write my own version.

When I left Good News Circle after traveling with them for two years, I took a few weeks and went back home to our apple orchard near Sidney, Michigan. working there for a couple weeks made a lot of things clear to me. One of those things was how much God cares for me. I saw Him smiling in flowers, reaching out to me in trees, whispering in the wind. And soon a melody sprang up in my heart.

When lunchtime came, I went inside, and at the keyboard it all came together—a song of joy, just to say, “Thank You, Lord!”

2007 Notes

Maybe it’s because I was raised there, but living out in the country still tends to clarify things for me. Maybe it’s an elemental thing. There’s less protection, less insulation out here. You feel the intensity, the danger, the beauty of nature in the first person.

We moved out in the country a few years ago and have never looked back. Boy, if you thought I used to talk too much about nature, you should hear me now. I can go on and on and on about a bird I just saw. (And that happens a lot here: goldfinches, indigo buntings, scarlet tanagers, woodpeckers, rose-breasted grosbeaks, hummingbirds, cedar waxwings, Baltimore orioles…) And every time I see a new one, I think of Grandma. Oh, how she loved birds. She used to get so excited when she’d spy an unusual or especially pretty one that—well, frankly, I thought she was a little touched sometimes, it’s true. But now I understand. And I’ve apologized to her so many times just this summer. The older I get, the more all those little things mean. And I’ll sure have a lot to talk to Grandma about one of these days…