Dear readers, Here is something I wrote and shared with our church family tonight in honor of the coming holiday. I hope you enjoy!
ENTER HIS GATES WITH THANKSGIVING
I am sure that every person has special Thanksgiving memories which they could share, and I wish that time would permit us to do just that. But, since this was a rather spur-of-the-moment idea for service tonight, I will share some things that are special to me at Thanksgiving time.
I have to say that I am sad, nostalgic, and excited all at once this year. Only a person with bi-polar tendencies could experience all of these emotions at once, but I will leave that up to you to decide on! Joking, joking...
I am sad because Daddy will be alone on Thanksgiving — my sister, Ruth, is a nurse and has to work that day. My other sister had other plans. I am 700 miles from home with no way to try to recapture a little of the grandeur which Mother always managed to create for our special holiday.
I am nostalgic because all I have are sweet memories to hold close on Thanksgiving. In the midst of this rather morose litany though, I have to pause and say to you, Isn’t it so wonderful that God has given us memories? I am so very thankful this year that, even as I feel tears running down the windowpanes of my heart, the memories of holidays past kindle the flames of recollection which warm my very soul. I have no doubt that my courageous father will be beside that hearth of memory as well, sitting by enjoying the memories of what was.
I am excited because God has been so gracious to me and has allowed me the opportunity to work amongst people who are gracious and loving. When I wander through the rooms of the parsonage and remember the cramped, cluttered space which we called home for the past five years, I am filled with so much gratitude that you have provided your pastor and family with such a lovely home. I feel so unworthy. Yet, I have to say that I am enjoying decorating and preparing for Thanksgiving.
I love the traditions which surround Thanksgiving: turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie. I love the after-dinner ride into the country for a couple of hours. Now, there was one time when I failed to have much love for the after- dinner ride. Travel twenty years back with me: My family was out on this traditional ride when a rather raucous booming sound announced the demise of an already paper-thin tire. Back then, filling stations, grocers, everything, closed, so here we sat, in the country with a flat tire, thirty miles from home and helpless. My poor father tried the can of "flat-tire fixer" which he actually happened to have along, but it is rather hard to repair something that looks like grandma’s flour sifter in the first place. Then, Daddy found a piece of plastic which fit perfectly in the shred that called itself a tire. Excitement reigned for the space of half a minute as the plastic held on long enough to raise the tire just enough to raise our hopes. Another loud explosion sounded and we all bailed from the car, sure that Daddy was now half the size he had been when we left the house (from being blown in half, of course).
Eventually, my father managed to contact a neighbor of ours by payphone and he drove thirty miles to bring us a spare tire that was in almost as bad a shape as the one which had expired in such an untimely manner. But, do you know what I remember most? I remember the fact that someone interrupted their special day to help us out and the gratitude that filled my nine year old heart when they pulled up beside our stranded family. I was also never so glad to see home as I was that night.
As I said, I love traditions, but this year, I have decided to not be so bound to being traditional that I cannot enjoy some new things, too. So, I am taking a huge risk (not something I like to do as a general rule), and making traditional foods with all-new recipes. I refuse to live in a tradition of heartache over the past when God has given me such a bright present and glorious future. I may have a moment of sadness when I think of what was, but I have every reason to look forward and celebrate life, family, friends, and love right now.
If I were homeless on the street with nothing but the clothes on my back, no money and not knowing where my next meal would come from, I could still find the spirit of celebration in my heart because of this one thing: No matter what happens to the physical body, as long as my soul is safe in Jesus, I have every cause to be thankful. I hope I never have to put these words to the test, but if I should, I hope I will be able to remember this and lift my heart in praise to the Redeemer of all.
I am sure that every person has special Thanksgiving memories which they could share, and I wish that time would permit us to do just that. But, since this was a rather spur-of-the-moment idea for service tonight, I will share some things that are special to me at Thanksgiving time.
I have to say that I am sad, nostalgic, and excited all at once this year. Only a person with bi-polar tendencies could experience all of these emotions at once, but I will leave that up to you to decide on! Joking, joking...
I am sad because Daddy will be alone on Thanksgiving — my sister, Ruth, is a nurse and has to work that day. My other sister had other plans. I am 700 miles from home with no way to try to recapture a little of the grandeur which Mother always managed to create for our special holiday.
I am nostalgic because all I have are sweet memories to hold close on Thanksgiving. In the midst of this rather morose litany though, I have to pause and say to you, Isn’t it so wonderful that God has given us memories? I am so very thankful this year that, even as I feel tears running down the windowpanes of my heart, the memories of holidays past kindle the flames of recollection which warm my very soul. I have no doubt that my courageous father will be beside that hearth of memory as well, sitting by enjoying the memories of what was.
I am excited because God has been so gracious to me and has allowed me the opportunity to work amongst people who are gracious and loving. When I wander through the rooms of the parsonage and remember the cramped, cluttered space which we called home for the past five years, I am filled with so much gratitude that you have provided your pastor and family with such a lovely home. I feel so unworthy. Yet, I have to say that I am enjoying decorating and preparing for Thanksgiving.
I love the traditions which surround Thanksgiving: turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie. I love the after-dinner ride into the country for a couple of hours. Now, there was one time when I failed to have much love for the after- dinner ride. Travel twenty years back with me: My family was out on this traditional ride when a rather raucous booming sound announced the demise of an already paper-thin tire. Back then, filling stations, grocers, everything, closed, so here we sat, in the country with a flat tire, thirty miles from home and helpless. My poor father tried the can of "flat-tire fixer" which he actually happened to have along, but it is rather hard to repair something that looks like grandma’s flour sifter in the first place. Then, Daddy found a piece of plastic which fit perfectly in the shred that called itself a tire. Excitement reigned for the space of half a minute as the plastic held on long enough to raise the tire just enough to raise our hopes. Another loud explosion sounded and we all bailed from the car, sure that Daddy was now half the size he had been when we left the house (from being blown in half, of course).
Eventually, my father managed to contact a neighbor of ours by payphone and he drove thirty miles to bring us a spare tire that was in almost as bad a shape as the one which had expired in such an untimely manner. But, do you know what I remember most? I remember the fact that someone interrupted their special day to help us out and the gratitude that filled my nine year old heart when they pulled up beside our stranded family. I was also never so glad to see home as I was that night.
As I said, I love traditions, but this year, I have decided to not be so bound to being traditional that I cannot enjoy some new things, too. So, I am taking a huge risk (not something I like to do as a general rule), and making traditional foods with all-new recipes. I refuse to live in a tradition of heartache over the past when God has given me such a bright present and glorious future. I may have a moment of sadness when I think of what was, but I have every reason to look forward and celebrate life, family, friends, and love right now.
If I were homeless on the street with nothing but the clothes on my back, no money and not knowing where my next meal would come from, I could still find the spirit of celebration in my heart because of this one thing: No matter what happens to the physical body, as long as my soul is safe in Jesus, I have every cause to be thankful. I hope I never have to put these words to the test, but if I should, I hope I will be able to remember this and lift my heart in praise to the Redeemer of all.
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