I love Thanksgiving. Possibly even more than Christmas (and I LOVE Christmas). But instead of just telling you why I love it, I thought I might just give you a little insight into a normal family thanksgiving dinner for me. So here ya go. Hope you enjoy.
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On Thanksgiving Day, my family travels to my grandmother’s house in Cullman, Alabama. We usually fall asleep in the car until we hit the gravel road that jolts us awake to an exciting realization: We’re here.
As I walk in the door I hear my grandmother in the kitchen laughing as my cousins stick their fingers in the food and run away giggling. I see the Lord in the way that she sets aside her time to cook for her family. She finds so much joy in serving us. I love that God made her that way.
“Joe! I need the punch bowl from downstairs please,” she yells to my grandfather, as he emerges from back room where he was probably looking for his house shoes. (He prefers to be comfortable.) When he sees us, his smile spreads from ear to ear, and he says in his grandfatherly way, “Well hi! I’m so glad y’all could make it!” The joy in his eyes makes it obvious that every word is absolute truth. His hospitality could make anyone feel like they were not only welcome, but wanted. He leans down to embrace us with his big arms and squeezes us until we can’t breathe. Then he releases us, and with a wink just like Santa Clause, he whispers, “I’ll be right back.”
My other grandmother and great grandfather come through the front door. They have begun joining us for thanksgiving dinner with this side of the family, and it’s such a blessing to have us all in one place. Everyone greets them with lots of hugs and how are you’s. I love the way that they all know each other’s names even though there’s no blood relation there.
I venture into the next room to find my oldest cousins, twin boys, sitting at the table engaged in manly conversation with my uncle. It usually consists of hunting seasons and my uncle’s latest construction projects. I interrupt their conversation to hug the three of them, and then quickly exit so I don’t prolong my intrusion on their, “manliness.” Shaking my head, I smile at the fellowship they have in each other. I’m so thankful for it.
I go back to the kitchen, hugging everyone I see on the way there, and find my grandmother still buzzing around like the busiest bee you’ve ever seen. When I ask how I can help, she gives me a small list of things to do, and I set about immediately to complete my tasks. I wash some of the dishes in the sink and start the coffee pot. Then I check the rolls in the oven knowing she usually forgets they’re there. This year she remembered, and I take note of the perfectly golden bread sitting next to the green beans.
When all the cooking is done, we all gather in the same room to thank God for the food and each other. This is possibly my most favorite part of Thanksgiving. Everyone stands humbly, as equals, stripped of any stress for just a moment. One of the men says the prayer, and I am reminded of the how blessed I am to be standing here with my entire family, a family that loves me. It gets overwhelming to think about.
After we hear, “Amen,” it’s a mad dash to the front of the line. We grab our plates and heap on all the southern style cooking we can manage. Mashed potatoes on top of the turkey and green beans and mac and cheese squeezed in next to it. Rolls are balanced carefully on the edge of the plate, and we begin the balancing act back to the table.
Over dinner, my brother and the cousin closest to his age start talking about the latest thing they built on Minecraft and how they can’t wait to go build something after dinner. The younger girls check- up on the newest crush in the other’s life, and talk about all of the, “cute,” things the boys do. The four oldest of us just laugh and observe the conversations of the younger ones. Once they leave the table, we finally begin catching up ourselves. “How’s college going?” “Are you still dating that guy?” “How has your basketball season been?” “Have your grades tanked yet this year?….. yeah same.” We laugh, knowing that we can be open and honest.
Because we don’t live super close, I find it difficult to be keep up with what’s going on with my cousins. But in this moment, sitting around the Thanksgiving table, I get some time to be a part of their lives. I get to listen and laugh at their latest adventures, knowing that we all love each other unconditionally. No, we don’t always get along. No, it’s not always smiles and fuzzy, heart-warming stories. But more often than not, we find joy in each other’s company because of that unspoken but always understood unconditional love.
THAT is why I love Thanksgiving. It’s uninterrupted time with my family where we can come around one table. We get to love each other by listening. We have good food, and we focus on each other rather than ourselves. And it’s not because we are super selfless or amazing people. It’s just because we love each other.
Life is not void of pain. I will confess that even as I write this, I am sick and a little heart-broken. But today, I hope that you will join me as we set aside the pain and live in the joy that God has called us to. Spend time with those you love and bask in thankfulness. Remember that today was created to restore us to that joy.
Thank You, God, for Thanksgiving.