In my heart of hearts what I really wish for each Thanksgiving is a long, Norman Rockwell table filled with Paula Deen food and a Martha Stewart centerpiece with a gray-haired sage delivering a Billy Graham blessing. Unfortunately, that’s just not the way it works in my family.
I’ve let that be a source of frustration over the years, and Lord knows I’ve made many attempts at producing that kind of dinner only to fail miserably.
Early in our marriage, I and my gal invited the in-laws to the Church House. We didn’t have a table cloth so we threw a cranberry-red satin sheet over the table. We couldn’t afford a fancy flower arrangement, so we pulled together some candles in tarnished-brass candlesticks for a center piece and the dishes that survived an early-marriage mishap. We were so proud of that table, but thinking back, it was probably about as tacky a display as I’ve ever had.
Didn’t matter, though. The in-laws argued as soon as they knocked on our door. That was also the day I realized that what I had mistaken for anger-management issues was their normal conversation tones. The day ended reasonably well…I think. I had taken so many Tylenols by then to get rid of the headache that had resulted from the 900 decibel dinner that I might have been a little over medicated.
I just know that after the fact I vowed not to go to that much trouble again for people who didn’t really seem to appreciate it. In other years we invited cousins, friends and no one to the fourth Thursday in November food fest, and none of them ever turned out like I wanted.
Earlier this month I read a devotional by a chaplain friend that sobered me up about this matter, though. He basically said that we’ve all been sold a lie about Thanksgiving. That Norman Rockwell painting…it’s called Freedom from Want, never happened. It was an idealized picture of Thanksgiving that most of us have never experienced. The folks at Publix, Kroger, Hallmark and network TV have told us we’re supposed to have those warm family gatherings over basted turkey and real cranberries where everyone joins hands around the table and offers genuine thanks for the past year. Oh, there’s always that impish child who makes everyone laugh with cute little thanksgiving story, and by the time grace is said, there’s not a dry adult eye in the house.
It’s just not like that at our house. There are no grandparents to invite over or go see. I’m an only child and my wife is an estranged one, so there are no siblings to gather for a friendly game of touch football after the meal. My kids aren’t old enough to have families of their own yet. And so, it’ll be just the four of us, with perhaps a visit from one of my oldest friends, gathering around the table.
They’ll be ham, chicken-on-the-bone, Amish bread, chess pie, vanilla cake, sweet potato casserole, stuffing, fries, cranberry-peach chutney, green beans, sweet iced tea and a variety of Coca-Cola products. Hopefully, we’ll all gather at the table at the same time. And, hopefully, we’ll each say something that resembles true gratitude.
Afterward, we’ll rest a bit and then head to a movie. That’s the one consistent tradition we have at our house. Thanksgiving night is the night we go see a holiday blockbuster. The rest of the year we rent the dollar movies from Red Box.
It ain’t Norman Rockwell, but it’s all I’ve got.
And, the truth is, I can’t complain. My family is intact and healthy. My wife and I both have jobs. My kids are well-adjusted and doing excellently in school. I’ve grown more spiritually this year than I ever have in my whole life. I’ve got friends who love me and a family I’m proud of. We won’t fill a long table, and there are only two generations in attendance, but that’s OK.
Thanksgiving Day needn’t be about show and tell. If we truly offer thanksgiving, the circumstances of the moment don’t really matter. Truth is, if we reserve giving thanks to just one day a year, we’re in trouble.
1 Thessalonians 5:18 says: “In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for simplicity.
For a wife who can cook a wonderful meal.
For two great kids.
For the company of friends.
For the presence of mind, air in my lungs and an overflowing heart that allows me to say out loud that God is good, and I am thankful. His love endures forever.
I’ve let that be a source of frustration over the years, and Lord knows I’ve made many attempts at producing that kind of dinner only to fail miserably.
Early in our marriage, I and my gal invited the in-laws to the Church House. We didn’t have a table cloth so we threw a cranberry-red satin sheet over the table. We couldn’t afford a fancy flower arrangement, so we pulled together some candles in tarnished-brass candlesticks for a center piece and the dishes that survived an early-marriage mishap. We were so proud of that table, but thinking back, it was probably about as tacky a display as I’ve ever had.
Didn’t matter, though. The in-laws argued as soon as they knocked on our door. That was also the day I realized that what I had mistaken for anger-management issues was their normal conversation tones. The day ended reasonably well…I think. I had taken so many Tylenols by then to get rid of the headache that had resulted from the 900 decibel dinner that I might have been a little over medicated.
I just know that after the fact I vowed not to go to that much trouble again for people who didn’t really seem to appreciate it. In other years we invited cousins, friends and no one to the fourth Thursday in November food fest, and none of them ever turned out like I wanted.
Earlier this month I read a devotional by a chaplain friend that sobered me up about this matter, though. He basically said that we’ve all been sold a lie about Thanksgiving. That Norman Rockwell painting…it’s called Freedom from Want, never happened. It was an idealized picture of Thanksgiving that most of us have never experienced. The folks at Publix, Kroger, Hallmark and network TV have told us we’re supposed to have those warm family gatherings over basted turkey and real cranberries where everyone joins hands around the table and offers genuine thanks for the past year. Oh, there’s always that impish child who makes everyone laugh with cute little thanksgiving story, and by the time grace is said, there’s not a dry adult eye in the house.
It’s just not like that at our house. There are no grandparents to invite over or go see. I’m an only child and my wife is an estranged one, so there are no siblings to gather for a friendly game of touch football after the meal. My kids aren’t old enough to have families of their own yet. And so, it’ll be just the four of us, with perhaps a visit from one of my oldest friends, gathering around the table.
They’ll be ham, chicken-on-the-bone, Amish bread, chess pie, vanilla cake, sweet potato casserole, stuffing, fries, cranberry-peach chutney, green beans, sweet iced tea and a variety of Coca-Cola products. Hopefully, we’ll all gather at the table at the same time. And, hopefully, we’ll each say something that resembles true gratitude.
Afterward, we’ll rest a bit and then head to a movie. That’s the one consistent tradition we have at our house. Thanksgiving night is the night we go see a holiday blockbuster. The rest of the year we rent the dollar movies from Red Box.
It ain’t Norman Rockwell, but it’s all I’ve got.
And, the truth is, I can’t complain. My family is intact and healthy. My wife and I both have jobs. My kids are well-adjusted and doing excellently in school. I’ve grown more spiritually this year than I ever have in my whole life. I’ve got friends who love me and a family I’m proud of. We won’t fill a long table, and there are only two generations in attendance, but that’s OK.
Thanksgiving Day needn’t be about show and tell. If we truly offer thanksgiving, the circumstances of the moment don’t really matter. Truth is, if we reserve giving thanks to just one day a year, we’re in trouble.
1 Thessalonians 5:18 says: “In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for simplicity.
For a wife who can cook a wonderful meal.
For two great kids.
For the company of friends.
For the presence of mind, air in my lungs and an overflowing heart that allows me to say out loud that God is good, and I am thankful. His love endures forever.
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