Thanksgiving, what else?

On Sunday we had a Thanksgiving service, and while I can appreciate that people are thankful for Jesus, the Bible, and their families, I would sometimes like to hear some really practical replies to the question, "What are you thankful for?"

I am guessing it was a bit different for the Pilgrims on that first Thanksgiving Day. I am sure they were thankful for the religious freedom they enjoyed, but it came at the dreadful cost of losing nearly half their numbers to the fearsome first winter in the new world. They had suffered and starved and endured, and their feast was purely one of joy for the bounty they had reaped that autumn. They were glad for roofs over their heads, for pumpkins and beans and corn in their cellars, for moccasins on their feet. It was intensely real thanksgiving.

We are so awash in luxuries that we hardly know how to be thankful. I am reminded of Corrie ten Boom and her sister in the concentration camp. Their barracks were simply crawling with lice, and Corrie thought there was no way she could obey the command to give thanks in all things. They were amazed that they were able to have beautiful worship services and the guards never bothered them. It was only weeks later that they found out the guards didn't want to get lice, so they didn't set foot in that particular barracks. I was thinking of that in the last week and came up with a few unlikely things for which I can be thankful.

•  the state of the economy... it underscores the faithfulness of God and the rest I have in that Absolute Power
• having a child with medical needs... I am reminded daily that I am not the healer, but He is
• being behind in my projects... because I have children!
• staying home alone when my husband is away at a meeting, again... he is a very useful man and is willing to pour himself out for others
• needing to be thrifty... I get the joy of thrift shopping!
  

Okay, so maybe I am getting a little extra practical. I am daily loaded with benefits, and I want to learn to spontaneously praise my Providential Father for even the things that don't seem so nice at first glance. 

Attending a Christian school meant having chapel devotions every Friday morning with a visiting speaker. I remember one day in second grade when the very proper deacon had droned on and on about being thankful, and then he astonished us with an uncharacteristic bit of humor. "If you don't think you have much to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day, you can at least be thankful you are not a turkey." I thought that was incredibly witty, and I never forgot it. So I want to appreciate even the zany, off the wall things in life.

 

• my five year old has finally learned to blow his nose
• paper plates on the weekend
• Mom's pumpkin pie coming up in a few days
• Windex, and Scrubbing Bubbles for cleaning the bathroom
• velcro shoes for kiddoes
• snail mail
• the ability to ignore my dirty dishes and blog instead
  

Oh, no, that last one broke through my fun and I must go! 

Sometimes I Wake Up Grouchy

You know the worst of it? I am feeling just plain wretched and then my Mom pries open my mouth and rubs this horrid stuff all over my sore gums. And then I have to drool so much I can't possibly keep up with it. My dignity is crushed. And I feel like I just have to chew on my knuckles. It's nasty, just plain nasty.

I mean, doesn't a baby have any rights?

Today's Gregism

A little boy is struggling with his peas.

"I am 'dust' a pappy that doesn't eat peas.

I am 'dust' a pappy that doesn't want an ice pop..."

Inspiration hits.

"I am 'dust' a pappy that eats only candy..."

Nice try, Greg. Now eat your peas.

Wait a Minute...

What has sprung up in my garden?

Let's take another look.

Hey, there's a sign pasted on the front.

What a relief! No more crocodiles in our garden!

Playing Church

Gregory is the preacher. Oratorical voice, "What does Jesus do? Alex? Do you know? It starts with 'h'. Don't you know? Why He heals, duh!" Impressive pause. " And now we are going to talk about fur. Ducks are furry, but elephant tusks are not. And I think gorillas are furry."

Let's just say the service has gotten a bit off track.

Thursday Rain

It is pouring rain and there are 14 pairs of pants out on the line, dripping sadly. I know exactly how many pairs because I have developed the habit of counting them as I hang them out (last week it was 19) and figuring smugly how much money I am saving by being green. "Let's see, that would be at least 70 minutes in the dryer on high heat, which would mean....dollars on the electric bill, and x amount of the Earth's resources depleted to supply the electricity." Truth be told, these pants got hung out yesterday in the sunshine, but in the early darkness and rush to get to prayer meeting, I forgot to bring them inside. So now I am trying to decide whether I should don rain gear and umbrella and bring them in or wait for sunshine tomorrow. I think I will just hang onto my green principles and let them rinse today.
Rainy days also mean getting really, really creative to keep the small fry out of mischief. They have developed this play where one will suddenly drop down on all fours and begin barking. The other will instantly be cued to be the master and attach a collar and tie the dog up. Then there are training sessions and lots of loud barking and growling and dog feedings. The dog house is under the recliner and requires at least 3 blankets to build it properly. It is really a very innocent and amusing play, but one can only handle so much barking inside the house. However, I have to concede that it beats "panther in the bull pen".
Here's my formula for sanity on rainy days. Make play dough. Listen to audio books on Librivox. And by all means, put your laundry through the dryer.

One More

It simply would not go where I wanted it to go, so I just decided to publish a new post. I will beat this thing yet! Actually, I consider it a great triumph to have figured out how to do this without Gabe! Usually I just ask him how to do whatever it is has me stumped, and he shows me very rapidly how to "go here and here and you're done". I try to comprehend, but it is easier (and faster) to forget and ask him again the next time.  Which is probably why he said I have to figure this out on my own. I am the the one who loves to write, and cannot keep up with my correspondence, so I am the one who will be doing the posting, and he can't hold my hand every time I get a journalistic urge. Hey, I said I love to learn. Some things just bend my brain harder than others.