Last week the children and I made turkeys and wrote things we are thankful for on their tail feathers, that perennial craft for this time of year. They did all the family, home, friends, food, stuff. My list is a bit more off the wall, but sincere.
I have been pep talking myself for a few days, over the persistent blue-ish awareness that life is much too complicated and full of trouble, that I am likely past my prime and still haven’t learned so many elementary things, etc. You know, blah blah, and here I am raking leaves two days before Thanksgiving because I hadn’t gotten them done yet, and why does the soup taste funny, and will I live with this headache the rest of my life?
I don’t know what you do when this happens but usually I read something inspirational and listen to the wisdom of ages when it comes to life and praise and prosperity. Yesterday I read Psalm 104, 105, and when I got to 106 I told God that I am sorry for not feeling thankful, but I will just move on out of my self absorbed funk and make French toast for my family.
This morning between the hours of 3:50 when Addy needed help to find the bathroom and 4:50 when Gabe’s alarm buzzed, I lay sleepless and felt the cares pulling me under again, including the nagging headache. This time I decided to listen to Genesis on audio, because I needed continuity, to see a bigger picture unroll with a Plan and a Wise Provider behind the affairs of man.
As I listened from “and God said it was very good” all the way through the blight of sin and the time when man wanted only evil continually, I saw the thread of patience, of persistent, outrageous, redeeming love. What really got me was the genealogies. Centuries and centuries of people and who am I but one little teeny mention in time. It cheered me up immensely to step away from my assignments and look up to the Faithfulness that goes on forever.
I got permission to stop taking myself so seriously, if that makes any sense. I am not shucking off my responsibilities, but neither am I responsible for the outcome of my faithfulness. He is the One who starts and finishes our faith, our life, our work. Today I start with that on the top of my list of thankfulness.
Next to that is gratefulness for Advil for Migraine. Who knew that taking it on an empty stomach would produce such a pleasant sort of buzzy feeling?
We are getting our first snow and the children are tickled beyond delight. I over- provided snow pants in my thrift store shopping this summer, so they each have at least one pair without holes and an extra when that one gets wet. In my entire childhood, I didn’t have a single pair of proper snow pants. Maybe that is why I buy them whenever I see them cheap.
I have Southern Pecan flavored coffee to drink this morning. With real cream.
We don’t have to go anywhere today and there is boxed mac n cheese with corn dogs on the menu for the beginning cook to prep on his own. And broccoli, just in case you were feeling sorry about our vitamin-less state.
I will be cooking up salted caramel for sauce on the Thanksgiving dessert. Or for in coffee. Or even just to sneak by the surreptitious spoonful.
My oldest son no longer asks for complicated birthday cakes. Just so they taste good. Yay for 12! I am going to see what he thinks about carrot cake with fresh ginger.
Dredging down real deep, I find that I am even thankful for the 28 hours of overtime my husband had in a two week pay period. He has steady work, and he hasn’t had to wear the ebola suit that they spent so much time practicing to put on properly.
Last but not least, I do not have to live 969 years, like Methuselah. Hallelujah! (and a shout-out to Max McLean for reading genealogies without a single stumble over all those odd names.)