I have celebrated Thanksgiving every year of my life. A day of family, friends and eating. I did not know that there was a patriotic element of the Thanksgiving celebration until coming to Marble. There has never been any connection with any nationalistic pride in my family celebrations. Rather, Thanksgiving is an annual ritual to offer gratitude to God for all of life.

Growing up, either my family or my cousins who lived nearby hosted the dinner. Over a couple of decades, everyone has migrated north but we still live within a couple of hours of each other. The Thanksgiving pattern has remained—either we host or they do. 

A week and a half ago I got a call that my cousins’ house (the house where we celebrated so many Thanksgivings, Christmases, birthdays and ballet recitals) had caught fire. My dear cousins escaped at 10:30 at night, with what they had on their backs. Their house is 97% unlivable. I thank God that they are alive! I am confident that our great God who preserved their lives will restore them so I am already grateful for what’s coming.

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress;
my God, in whom I trust.’ 
For God will deliver you under God’s wings you will find refuge; 
You will not fear the terror of the night, or the arrow that flies by day . . .  
excerpts from Ps 91:1-5

My grandmother’s birthday was always on or near Thanksgiving. Or, maybe it wasn’t actually? Family lore holds that she “changed her birthday” from some time in October to near Thanksgiving.

I guess her birthday choice makes sense since she became an orphan at age eleven. She spent the rest of her adolescence and early childhood as the ward of another older cousin, while attending boarding schools. So, family was something that she valued highly, because she spent lots of time without it. Most of our Thanksgiving celebrations included a birthday cake for her. At Thanksgiving I miss my family members who have gone to be with God—but the memories are certainly sweet.

So I have looked upon You in the sanctuary,
beholding Your power and glory.
Because Your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise You.
So I will bless You as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands and call on your name.
Ps 63: 2-4

During the Thanksgiving season, I experienced the most profound change in my life: I became a mother. My firstborn arrived the day before Thanksgiving day. Births are mundane medical science, yet each one is a miraculous act of God. God has blessed me tremendously with both children. In that first birthing experience, God reached into my being and put fragments of my life together that had been broken for a long time. That kind of healing can only come from God.

I would call it an answered prayer, but I never knew the words to articulate my needs. My gratitude is to God for my life, my husband, children and my mother who presses on despite health challenges.

I pray this Thanksgiving that all of our homes and families will be warm, welcoming and filled with gratitude. And that those without food, shelter or family be healed, fed and loved in Jesus’ name.