I was reading through the November issue of In Touch Magazine and came across stories contributed by readers that documented their most memorable Thanksgiving meals. This kind of reading always resonates with me, and I was inspired to write my own story recounting my most memorable Thanksgiving meal. It's still very fresh in my mind as it took place only one year ago and is slap-full of sweet memories for me. In this world of busy-ness and the rush to get ready for Christmas, I hope you'll take the time to slow down and enjoy a memorable meal with those you love this Thanksgiving. Most importantly, take the time to express your gratefulness to The One From Whom All Blessings Flow. Happy Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving around our home is pretty predictable most
years. My husband and the men of his
family celebrate the first day of rabbit season by loading up their
rambunctious hound dogs, donning their orange vests, and checking one last time
to make sure there’s enough ammunition in their pockets. They’ll return just in time for turkey,
dressing, sweet potatoes (topped with either marshmallows or brown sugar and
pecans), and yeast rolls, just to name a few of the delicacies prepared by husband’s
Nanny in her small but cozy kitchen. The
family of aunts and uncles and in-laws will take shifts eating so that everyone
has their chance at the kitchen table.
Except for Papa. He prefers to
eat out on the little front porch where it’s not quite so crowded. After stuffing ourselves, we’ll join Papa on
the porch and on the steps to sit and watch the grandboys wrestle in the fallen
leaves of the Pecan tree right out in the front yard. At least two of those grandboys belong to my
rabbit-hunting husband and me. I sit and
watch them as they play and laugh and roll, and I pray earnestly that they’ll
have fond memories of these times.
Eventually, we pack up and head to visit my family eighty miles down the
road, and find ourselves stuffed again and slightly more lethargic than the
first go-round. Thanksgiving has always
held such fond memories for me throughout all of my growing up years. Every year I anticipate the food, the
fellowship, and the memories that are made.
Last year was just as memorable but not nearly as
predictable as the twenty-something Thanksgivings I’d celebrated before
that. I found myself unexpectedly eating
my Thanksgiving meal from a styrofoam to-go plate with a set of plastic
utensils as I sat up slightly reclined in a hospital bed. My husband and my Daddy had gone to great
lengths to find the meal that sat before me.
They had ventured out in the bright sunshine only to find that every
restaurant that would serve anything closely resembling a Thanksgiving feast
was closed; even Cracker Barrel. So back
to the hospital it was for one final attempt.
There they found it in the hospital cafeteria. My to-go plate was stuffed with turkey,
dressing, collard greens, and bread. It
was kind of ironic that my husband had joked only a couple of weeks before that
this baby boy better stick to his due date of December 5th, because He
surely wasn’t going to miss the opening day of Rabbit Season AND his Nanny’s
Thanksgiving meal. Well, there we were, two
weeks earlier than expected, the three of us sharing our Thanksgiving meal
together while the newest of us, only hours old, slept peacefully in the
bassinet next to my bed. It was one of
the most precious and special Thanksgivings in my history. Though my husband missed what would have been
his last rabbit hunt with his Papa (who would pass away this past summer), we
were all content. God had blessed us
mightily from his abundance with a new life, dear family, and the promise of
His goodness.
But that wasn’t all. There was an added dimension of awe to this
day. Almost exactly a year prior to our
third baby boy’s Birthday, on what was Thanksgiving Day 2011, my beloved Mama
had gone home to be with Jesus. She’d
fought a twenty-year battle with cancer that was an inspiration to so many,
including me, her only daughter. It
honestly came as no surprise to me that God would call her home early on the
morning of what was her favorite holiday. And in my heart, it was really no
surprise that He would send new life to our family in the early morning hours
of the next year’s Thanksgiving. It was a story I had to share with any doctor,
nurse, or visitor who would come to welcome our new addition there in our cozy
hospital room. It was a story of
redemption! You see, He’s just that good and, thankfully, He’s pleasantly
surprising in His timing of all things.
