Though not typically thought of as a Thanksgiving hymn, when I reflect on what I am most deeply and humbly grateful for, I find myself singing verse two and three of Isaac Watts’ “How Sweet and Aweful is the Place” (1707).
While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast,
Each of us cry with thankful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?”
Why was I made to hear Thy voice,
And enter while there’s room,
When thousands make a wretched choice
And rather starve than come?