Thanksgiving

Thankful people are joy filled people.

I wonder sometimes if we realize the power of hearts full of gratitude.  It does something for our spirits that even seeps into the lives of the people we live and work with.

As I have been thinking about gratefulness, I have been struck again that grateful people don't just remember the good times.  It seems like if you were thankful, you would sit home creating lists of blessings.  "I'm thankful for mom and dad and the Bible and my dog..."

Thankful people take time to remember the bad times.  They dwell on the moments of terror and anguish when they weren't certain whether they were going to pull through.

"He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock , and established my goings.  And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God:  many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord."  Psalm 40:2,3

David was a poet and poets often wax metaphorical about the trials of their past.  I suppose if you are to specific, maybe your times of stress don't touch as many people's lives.  In these couple of verses, we find a wonderful pathway to thankfulness.

The pathway begins with the horrible pit and miry clay.  These memories of a dark time when we were unable to save ourselves are important because they let us feel again have the great the salvation we received was.  

The next step on the path is to realize where we are at today.  David says that he is standing on a rock.  There is firm soil beneath his feet, even though at one time his feet were trapped in quicksand.  This is the beginning of thanksgiving.  We are not perfect nor are our circumstances perfect, but we can see growth and divine fingers at work in our lives and that is a blessing.

The final step is to let this realized blessing spill out in words of praise.  God is good!  He has been working with us all of the time and we have to let the world know.

Grateful hearts have to share their gratitude with those around.

I pray that each of us would take this path on a daily basis.  For, as we let our minds move from the miry clay to the solid rock, we will not be able to avoid lifting our voices to say how great our God truly is!

Want My Mom!

 

"I want my mom!"  Elise said in a very distressed voice.  "Where's my mom?"

"Mom is at Walmart," I said.

"No," Elise said in a mournful voice.  "Mom went to flute lessons.  I want to go to flute lessons too."

"Anna doesn't have flute lessons today," I said.  "So, Mom wouldn't be taking her there."

"Mom will be back," Elise said in a distressed voice that told that she wasn't certain if she would ever see her dearly departed mother ever again.

"Of course," I told her, reassuringly.  "Mom always comes back.  Don't worry about it."

Elise is three years old and she worries about her mother no end when Elaine is out of her sight.

I suppose it is a bit like James James Morrison Morrison who told his mother, "You must never go down to the end of town if you don't go down with me!" (see A.A. Milne's poem "Disobedience" for those unfamiliar.)

We have a longing for those who are not with us that cannot be assuaged by simple reassurance.  There are many in this world who have lost friends and family members to death and the empty spot in their lives will never fully be filled, even though people tell them that "time heals all wounds." 

There is Someone even more important who Christians are missing.

Jesus told His followers at the Last Supper that He was going away.  This statement saddened and confused them.  They didn't really understand that He was talking about His death and were full of questions.  It is a blessing that He shared more with them.  (see John 14)

"I will come again," Jesus told the disciples.  "That where I am, there you may be also."

My little girl misses her mother terribly when Elaine is gone for even a short time.  We should miss Jesus just as much -- only consoled by the knowledge that He has promised that He will come again for us so that where He is, there we may be also.

Popcorn

 

“Today is the day,” I thought as I headed down to our garden.  I began to pick corn off of the stalks.

Unlike with the sweet corn we often grow, I did not shuck it and bring it inside.  Instead, I left it to sit in baskets for later.  When the kernels are fully dried, we shuck, shell it, and put in jars.

This is how I harvest popcorn.

The indigenous peoples of Central and South America planted popcorn thousands of years ago.  Long before microwaves and melted butter and caramel were invented, the Aztecs were popping corn over fires.

Most people these days think that popcorn grows on grocery store shelves or in little baggies that farmers pick off of vines, ready for placement in microwaves.  Of course, since Orville Redenbacher's death, it isn't even clear that anyone raises popcorn...

Popcorn has very little nutritional value (and even less when you pour melted butter and salt over it).  A cup of popped popcorn has only thirty calories in it.

It seems to me that God created popcorn knowing that we humans need a healthy snack.  I suppose He could have created a world with three varieties of vegetables, a couple of protein options and left it at that, but He didn’t.  God made a world that has an immense amount of diversity and for that, I am grateful.

Being the loving Heavenly Father that He is, He knew that young humans would get hungry between meals and so He made something tastier than carrot sticks and celery.

God made popcorn, the perfect in between meals, low calorie snack – one more thing to be thankful for in a time of harvest.

Knowing Your Doctor

 

“Oh, there you are,” my elderly patient said, as she looked up from the book she was reading.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I apologized.

“It’s good to see you,” Ida said.  She seemed to study my appearance for a few seconds.  “You’re wearing light pants today.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear light colored pants before.  You always wear dark colored pants – navy blue or black or something like that.”

I looked down at my khaki slacks.  I certainly had worn this color pants many times in my storied career.  I shrugged.  “I wear this color sometimes,” I told her.

“You’re really growing your hair out too!”  She said severely.  “I guess it looks OK on you…”

I am afraid that I was taken aback a little bit.  I’m nowhere near needing to put my hair up in a man bun.  In fact, I had just had a haircut the week prior.  I felt like a new contestant on the show “Old Eye for the Not-So-Young Guy.”

“I’m not a fashion icon,” I said.  “Hopefully my appearance isn’t too distracting.”

“No, no,” Ida answered.  “I was just noticing differences from the past.

My patients do know me, at least a little bit.  They see me semi-regularly over a period of years.  Obviously, some of them even know how I dress and cut my hair.  This is not the same thing as knowing me.

The Apostle Paul said, “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death.” (Phil. 3:10)  He was speaking of a relationship with Jesus.

Too many people believe that they can get to know Jesus with semi-regular visits.

There is no command that says that Christians have to go to church, read their Bible, or pray.  At the same time, the only way to really get to know someone is to spend time with them.

We cannot know Jesus without a daily investment of time, any more than an older woman can give fashion advice to a doctor she only sees every six months.