When I was growing up, Thanksgiving was that quiet
go-to-grandmas-eat-lots-of-food-and-be-bored-the-rest-of-the-day holiday. Compared to Christmas, Thanksgiving was just
a halfhearted warm up act. Sure, it was
nice to be with family and share a big, hearty meal, but it was not a big deal
to me.
Over the years, my perspective has changed. We first started hosting Thanksgiving nine
years ago. We had just bought our house that
summer and I said offhandedly that it would be great to host a holiday, but
not this year because it was just too soon.
We hosted anyway – hectic, learning, and chaotic, but I’m glad we did
it.
The next year, I was pregnant with our first child. The idea of being thankful seemed so important,
so integral to how life should be that I was grateful that this was our holiday
to host. I made handmade card
invitations, started to buy Thanksgiving décor, looked for ways to make this
OUR holiday. We started speaking out our
thankfulness before the prayer and I was brought to tears nearly every time.
Each year that passes, I am overwhelmed by all that I have
to be thankful for. It seems to me that
over time this holiday – Thanksgiving – is what should matter most.
Thanksgiving is:
- Friends and family together sharing and loving each other – even when we don’t understand or like each other all the time.
- Reminiscing, laughing, storytelling, traditions.
- Food, warmth, pumpkins, turkey, and stuffing.
- Brokenness…realizing that all we have – life, health, shelter, food, breath is a gift from God – grace for this moment – undeserved favor.
How can we not bow before God and offer thanks for each
moment? How can we forget that each
moment of life is a gift? I don’t live
this thankfulness as I should – today being a prime example of my irritation
and anger and shaking of my fist at all that annoys and inconveniences me –
even the people that should matter the most.
So come Thanksgiving, come to us broken ones – so that we can
weigh down time with grace and peace and a bit of joy to move us forward.
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