I sit down today, recording my Thanksgiving grocery list with flourish. Methodically, I put each ingredient on the page, and sit in wonder at the similarities of my paper and the canvas of a masterpiece. This sheet of paper is the beginning of my Thanksgiving spread.
Thanksgiving has been the one holiday that my husband and I can truly call our own. It was not intended to be like that. Our first year of marriage, we were recovering from the wedding, so no traveling then. We certainly had enough food for everyone, though. We ate amongst our wedding gifts.
Our second year, we went to Meredith’s house for Thanksgiving. It was wonderful fun. We were with oodles of her family, and…I didn’t cook. Win, win, win.
The next year, we were back home. This time I thought that I would really outdo myself, so I did the turkey and everything else that I could associate with Thanksgiving…for two people. We ate Thanksgiving for two weeks. I just couldn’t stop my nesting self.
Even when there are only two of us, I want the full spread. My grocery list is where the magic begins. What lies at the end of this grocery list is all mine, manageable aside from human error, and a scrumptious reason for giving myself a gold star.
When I was praying this morning about this upcoming preparation…I should explain, considering that some of you have been preparing for weeks or even minutes. My in-laws are coming in next week; therefore, we will have Thanksgiving late. My husband and I will have too much food on the day of Thanksgiving, but it will be of a different variety than the traditional Thanksgiving fare. That will be fun, too.
So, this morning I was thinking about this song, What Do I Know of Holy, by Addison Road, that has completely touched my heart over the last few weeks.
In acknowledging what I don’t know about God, I can acknowledge it is my struggle. I like knowing where I stand. I like understanding the parameters. I like saying, with certainty, that the outcome will be two meats, seven sides, bread, and three desserts…and a relish tray.
In fact, sometimes I pretend to be too familiar with His infinite nature. I pretend that I can know Him, instead know of Him.
When He gets too new, too unpredictable, I distance myself. My quiet times look like a woman doing the Heisman, holding Him at arms length while I keep running with the Thanksgiving turkey under my arm. Any deeper and I will have to see the new frontier. So, I shield my eyes as long as possible.
I can honestly say that I am on a new frontier. This week and last week have brought their own share of worries, struggles, and frustrations. I am left to say that this life is not like my grocery list at all. I look at God calling to me and saying, “I could be so much more to you. You do not have to control this.” Not easy for the master list maker.
All things point to…God is not like my grocery list.
Do you love the preparation for Thanksgiving as much as I do?