on thanksgiving. . .
Last year after our thanksgiving meal, the girls and David and I cleaned up, and then went to the airport 4 hours later to fly back to America . . .no masks, no fear other than a delayed flight. This Thanksgiving, that reality seems a world away.
As we gathered to give thanks this year, around the familiarity of turkey and sweet potatoes and pies and potatoes, I found myself missing family, but grateful for the community that surrounds us here. I was struck by the deep gratitude that settled over our friends as we put into words what has been good about this year. Our hearts echoed each others as we spoke, with those soft involuntary murmurs of recognition that in all of this, we are together. . .
We spoke of time together with core family, opportunity to see each other with new eyes and revel in our children’s unconditional love,
of marriages squeezed but strengthened, for teamwork when normal patterns and certainty failed
of the undeserved grace of provision and protection at the hospital . . .
of teamwork in a time where we could have abandoned one another – of the drive to protect and hold up each other through each new crisis
of building a home in uncertainty
for life and health, in a year where it is impossible to take that for granted
for our children’s resilience and care for one another . . .
for the ability to do work that meets a need
for eyes to see daily miracles
and for resilient and deepening friendships. . .
It is a year where we are pressed on every side but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are knocked down but not destroyed. . .and we are in no way abandoned.
So today, I choose to revel in this undeserved grace and give thanks.