Gratitude
Yesterday was Whit Monday.
Actually, I had the day off. So I made my way to the church in Strandby. Michael played accordion, accompanied by our organist and choir director Anne and the wonderful Amalie from our rhythmic choir. (rytmisk kor)
It was a beautiful service. But what stayed with me most was the postlude.
The song is called "Gratitude".
"Taknemmelig"
It has been with me ever since.
Yesterday, throughout the whole day. This morning, even more intensely.
Sometimes you hear a song. And sometimes there are songs that open a door within you. This song did exactly that.
Amalie sang with a warmth and honesty that touched something deep inside. Her voice didn't just convey words. It conveyed a feeling. Gratitude became audible.
Maybe that's why the song wouldn't let go of me.
Yesterday evening I spoke on the phone with my dear friend Judith for almost two hours. For over forty years, we've walked through life together. When we met, neither of us even had a driver's license yet. Since then, decades of shared memories lie between us.
We've watched each other grow, fail, and start again.
Sometimes we find the right words for each other.
And sometimes we don't need them at all.
Then we simply understand each other.
You can be grateful for that too.
During our conversation, I sent Judith the translated lyrics and the video I had recorded in the church. When I watched it again, that feeling pulled me back in.
Gratitude.
Not as a big word.
But as something quite simple.
Something you feel.
Maybe that's exactly something I've learned to appreciate especially in Denmark.
Here I encounter this feeling again and again in music.
Many old psalms find their way into modern pop music. At the same time, rock and pop songs become psalms and find their place in churches and hymnals.
Music here doesn't just belong on stage.
It belongs right in the middle of life.
Feelings are allowed to be shown.
Joy.
Sorrow.
Longing.
Love.
Gratitude.
And that's exactly what was palpable in the church yesterday.
When the song had faded, we stood together later in the community center. There was coffee and cookies, as always after the service. The congregation members started talking. Some had tears in their eyes. Others smiled quietly.
Each person heard something different.
Felt something different.
And yet we were all connected by the same feeling.
Gratitude.
What touched me especially was an encounter with a man I had never consciously noticed before.
He thanked us.
Not for a single performance.
Not for a particular song.
But for coming here.
For sharing our talents with the congregation.
I don't think anyone has ever said to me before:
"I'm grateful that you share your talents with us."
Those words echoed in me for a long time.
Maybe because they meant so much more than music.
Because when we came to Denmark almost three years ago, we were strangers.
We had to learn.
To listen.
To understand.
To find our way.
We tried to get to know the culture and become part of this community.
And we were not left alone in this.
Many people extended their hands to us.
They invited us.
Helped us.
Accompanied us.
Sometimes I think some members of this congregation took on the role of aunts and uncles for us.
They took us by the hand and showed us how life works here.
I am grateful for that to this day.
Maybe we've come some way by now.
No longer newcomers.
No longer the strangers we once were.
But not quite arrived either.
Maybe more like young people on their way to growing up.
We're slowly breaking free.
We're taking our own steps.
And we're trying to give back something of what we ourselves have received.
Maybe that's exactly what that man meant.
Maybe he was grateful for that.
And me?
I'm grateful that we are seen.
That we're allowed to belong.
That we're accepted.
And that a song is sometimes enough to make us aware of all that again.
And if anyone would like to hear this song again, and some others besides, you are cordially invited to our summer concert in Strandby Church. On Wednesday, June 3rd, 2026 at 7:00 PM
Vi ses
And here is the text of the song:
Grateful
Grateful for the day as it comes, the new current of fulfilled, open hours, grateful for all those you have given us, and for the breath we were allowed to receive for a time, grateful, because you show paths that we receive and receive and never need to possess ourselves.
Grateful for all summers of life, the boundless sky above time, grateful for the grass beneath our feet, as if walking on a cautiously lived wisdom, grateful, because there are days when light returns in a strange way.
Grateful for the whisper of the morning hours, a murmur from a land where death ends, grateful for the fine things we tend, the silent bonds between deep friends, grateful, because the tiniest tears are warmer than the thoughts that hurt.
Grateful for the memory valleys of the soul, where all those we have lost still exist, grateful for the bright language of life, for the new bonds that are woven between us, grateful, because you gave us dreams that no malice of this world can completely destroy.
Grateful for what awaits us today, for the eternity we carry right among us, grateful for the beautiful threads of life, woven from the love that bound us, grateful, because we stand on mysteries and breathe from the mystery: You guide and lead.
The text comes from Danish theologian and hymn writer Iben Krogsdal and is one of the modern Danish church hymns. The language is deliberately poetic and imaginative; some phrases cannot be rendered word-for-word but only in spirit. I especially love the lines:
"because the tiniest tears are warmer than the thoughts that hurt"
and
"for the eternity we carry right among us".
They combine gratitude, transience, and hope in a very impressive way.
