How was my Thanksgiving?
Wonderful! (She typed, sitting in her gym clothes and trying not to brush up against her cactus, lest she burst open at the merest prick…) I mean, obviously I am a red-blooded human, I ate too much and I’m on my way to zumba, praying my sweat doesn’t come out smelling like gravy. But yes, it was lovely.
Since even my fingers feel weighty and I want to conserve my energy for crumping, I’ll give you some bullet points:
-I drove the getaway car while my nugget-felon of a mom stole berries from the side of the road for decorating. WE ARE SERIOUS ABOUT DECORATING, PEOPLE.
-We watched the parade and, almost-homeschooled as I am, I gave thanks for Carrie Underwood’s upcoming revival of The Sound of Music. The hills are alive AGAIN!
-We decided to simplify our Thanksgiving breakfast to monkey bread and meat, because the Pilgrims didn’t know about heart disease. I gave thanks for my Asian metabolism…because I was still hungry for dinner a few hours later.
-We were unanimously thankful for our soon-to-be sister/daughter/wife, Suzanna, who put us all to shame by running 8 miles before dinner, just for funsies.
-Grammy came over, ranting about ugly people and the state of Dancing with the Stars and told us stories about Japan during the war. I was thankful that she brought my favorite Thanksgiving food (rice and seaweed) and that I have her brave, creative and weirdly honest genes.
-We went for a long, long walk and I gave thanks for parents who still hold hands after 28 years of marriage.
-Walking home, we passed my parents’ neighbors, who have a three-way, unspoken competition for the most elaborate Christmas light display. It escalates, growing more vicious and complex every year, much to our delight. May there never be peace!
And as I huffed along, thanking God that the cold made me numb from the waist down, that verse from James popped into my head:
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.
And I felt so very, very grateful that a season of thanksgiving is giving way to a season of hope. That amongst all of the big and small blessings of that day is the fact that we serve a God who is called the “Father of lights”, who became one of us to blaze a trail back to Heaven.
It’s been almost exactly a year since I made my big announcement that I wanted to start writing again, my promise to start blogging more, my decision to not let Fear own me any more. It has been a long and hilly year. I have wandered and fallen and changed.
But He has not and I’m so grateful for that.