From Stressed to Blessed Thanksgiving

A cat crouches behind the door, patiently waiting for the arrival of an unsuspecting victim.  Then without warning…pounce!  That is how I feel about Thanksgiving this year.   Summer, with all its planting and festivities, seemed to be clipping along at a steady pace.  Then BAM…snow and Thanksgiving.  I am left shaking my head saying, “When did that happen?”

As I peer into this coming week, I am trying not to freak out.  My head wants to rush into the tasks that lie before me, while my heart wants to take a cue from last year’s Thanksgiving.

I am not sure why, but last year found my heart in a place of simplicity, looking at life through the lens of what is truly important rather than what seemed urgent.  Rich conversation, connecting at a deeper level, giving my family my calm rather than the tattered remnant of a woman worn by the “doing.  These were the dishes I had longed to bring to the table as the family gathered around.

In order for that to happen, something…a lot of things had to change. It was time to let go of the high expectations I had placed on myself.  The kids weren’t coming home to see a beautiful table setting.   The house I stressed over to make spotless was not impressive to eight little “Grands” who would destroy it with enthusiasm in less than five minutes of their arrival.  No one was coming to be stuffed with stuffing for the second time of the day.   In the words of my son, “Mom you could serve pizza and we wouldn’t care.”

It was time to choose between the Pinterest Thanksgiving dream board (a heavy taskmaster), or the yoke created by my Father.  One that was easy.  One that was light.  One that would not chafe but lend itself to a place of rest as I laid down the striving.

The choice to surrender my unrealistic “dreams” was reflected throughout the whole of Thanksgiving Day.  With a scaled down meal, simple table setting, and a few candles lit, I was able to prepare for my family at a slower pace.  I spent time reflecting on each of them and their unique gifts, praying for them, asking God to be present in our home as we gathered around the table to celebrate His faithfulness.

And it happened.  God is able to do more from a simple exhale of His breath than I am able to accomplish with my exhaustive lists of tasks.  He came, and heaven touched our home.  Glorious conversations were had about the deep things of God.  Tears were shed, burdens shared, and relationships strengthened.  And when they left, a residue of God’s glory resided in our home.

So, this year, as I look at all that could call to me, I will reach for what is important and resist what presents itself as urgent.   For eternity calls, telling us there is something more to this life than what we see with our eyes, and hear with our ears.  There is a God who calls us to live with eyes wide open and hearts awake to what really matters…and that is Him.