Praise is a debt that must be paid, lest mercies curdle into curses. You have begun well with the voice of thanksgiving, now let the inward emotions of gratitude rise like a perpetual incense. Crown the Lord with your hallelujahs, for He has crowned the year with His goodness and has crowned you with protection and care.
There is an axle in the wheel of Providence that never turns; the outward circumstances revolve with bewildering intricacy, but the steadfast center is the love of God in Christ Jesus. You see the wheel moving, and you wonder where it drives, yet know this: the Lord has personally charged His angels to keep you in all your ways. Their watch is perpetual, their charge is an imperative command from the throne, and not a hair of your head shall perish without the ordained permission of the Father.
Cast the fretting care of self-protection into those mighty hands. He that numbers the stars and names them all, counts the very hairs of your head. Fate is blind, but Providence is full of eyes, eyes that never slumber, eyes that see the creeping aphid and the plotting adversary alike. So praise Him! Bless a giving God, but learn also to bless a taking God, for the path of duty is the pavilion of safety, and constant communion with Him is a shield in a world of evil. Your thanksgiving is a sweet-smelling savor; let it not be the flare of a single hour, but the steady flame of a life hid with Christ in God.