I'm grateful that I'm not a turkey, though some may dispute that reality. Not because I'd be in danger of ending up on someone's table this week. Not because I could give myself for the enjoyment of others. Not even because my own purpose could be enhanced by the tastiness of dressing, sweet potatoes, cranberries, pumpkin pie and other delicacies.
No, I am thankful because, compared to the thanksgiving bird, my brain in relation to my body is proportionately much greater. The pea-sized brain of the turkey is so small that the poor fowl doesn't even have a sense of self-preservation. I recall when I was a youngster at home, my Dad took his truck to haul young turkeys for a local farmer who raised them. When the box of the truck was raised up to unload them, the turkeys would come off in a pile. Then it was necessary to get into the pile with a broom and scatter them or they would just lie there on top of one another and smother.
This larger brain provides me with the opportunity to be grateful not just this one day each year. My cranial capacity allows me to adopt an attitude of gratitude throughout the year. I can truly follow St Paul's admonition: "Rejoice always, never cease praying, in all circumstances give thanks" (1 Thes 5:17-18). This mindset of thankfulness is a choice based not on how wonderful the circumstances of my life are, but rather on how deep within is the conviction that God is in charge of my life. If God is truly in charge, then I have nothing to fear, and everything for which to be thankful. "If God is for us, who can be against us" (Romans 8:31). So, thank you!
Therefore, as we gather together as family at the home of My Love's sister to celebrate this family feast, with each mouthful of food, I will be breathing a prayer of thanks. May that prayer become as second-nature as the breathing and eating, so that it will continue long after the left-overs have disappeared.
For the last two evenings, My Love and I have walked around the small lake on the south end of Cherokee. (Of course, I did not think to bring a camera along!) Called Spring Lake, it is a gravel pit that has been transformed into a wonderful park with shelter houses, picnic tables, grills, playground equipment for children, camping facilities for motor homes and travel trailers, several fishing spots, and a paved walking trail around the outside that takes about 1/2 hour to complete.
Swimming on the water were Canada geese with their little goslings in tow, mallard ducks with several small ducklings following, and many and varied species of birds flitting through the trees as they serenaded us with their sweet melodies.
Set off by the flowering lilac bushes, honeysuckle, bridle wreath and other blossoming trees, it is a true piece of paradise. Immersing ourselves in this reawakening of creation, it is impossible to be sad, worried, depressed or anxious. The surrounding beauty is almost intoxicating with the glory of God.
Even such a short half-hour stroll sends my heart bursting forth in praise and thanksgiving to God who encircles me every day with such reminders of the Eternal Presence. From time to time, I need these obvious taps on the shoulder to bring me again to consciousness of what is always there. Thank you, God.
