Hanna and I talked yesterday about what Good Friday meant; each year she picks up a little more understanding. We've read the Easter story over many times at bedtime and it was interesting that one of the first points she told me was how sad Jesus' mommy would've been because she watched Him being nailed to the cross. Then she talked about how His friends took Him down and wrapped His body. Children pick up on details we sometimes forget to think about. So today I'm reminded how confusing and anguished His mother and followers must have felt. It must've seemed like an end to all the hope they had placed in their future King on that dark, dismal day. Little did they know that farther along, only a few days later, a miracle like none other would take place. That Jesus would come out of the darkness of death and reveal His truth that we may live in the sunshine of His righteousness.
There are so many things we don't understand in today's world, so many questions we have but there is rest in knowing that as long as we live in the Son-shine, we'll understand it all someday... I heard this remake of the original hymn on a blog this week...beautiful words.
Farther along we’ll know more about it, Farther along we’ll understand why; Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine, We’ll understand it all by and by.
Hanna and Jake hit the replay button on this Easter song for children many times today.
But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5
In the early morning hours on March 14th, I awoke to tightening of my sides and a baby ready to begin it's journey of birth. I knew intuitively that it was to be the day we would meet our little one. My eyes glanced to the clock and I watched the minutes tick by in an attempt to find a pattern to the contractions. I felt my insides warm at the thought of what was ahead of me and anxious flutters kept my mind too alert to relax. Getting up, I walked to the nursery to check my bags and pack some toiletries; snacked a bit watched the clock some more and felt restlessness settle in. It was only about four in the morning and contractions were not very regular. I had to find a way to find some peace and get some more rest before morning. My Bible caught my eye, with hope I sought out rest within the pages. I was flipping through the pages of Psalms and at the bottom of a page my eye caught this particular verse:
"Be of good courage, and he will strengthen your heart, all you that hope in the Lord."
-Psalm 31:24
I knew in that moment that Jesus was speaking to me the very words that I needed to write on my heart, the words of strength that would take me through the hours ahead. This is what He'd been preparing me for in the previous months, through the prayers of so many friends, women who encouraged me to move beyond the anxieties I was feeling. I wanted so badly to experience the birth of a baby without fear, to really feel the miracle that it is. It resonated with me after reading that verse, that Jesus knew my heart's desire, the hope I had for this delivery but I would also have to act my part in order to receive the strength from Him that I needed. The choice to be of good courage was mine and I could only make that happen by laying aside the fear and placing my confidence in His love. Just days before I read that There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear - 1 John 4:18. Jesus loves us perfectly, He desires to cast out fear so that we may feel His immeasurable love.
I whispered that verse until I peacefully dozed off for a short while.
At six-thirty we decided that Wayne better stay home work, made plans for the children and off we went to the hospital for about ten o'clock. On the way I shared the verse I had learned, I felt joy in knowing that I wouldn't be coming back this way until there was a newborn baby coming home with us.
After feeling a little too comfortable at the hospital in the first few hours I began to wonder if this would end up being false labor but upon the doctor's arrival at noon I was assured to know that I was already halfway there. Again the next couple hours were relatively comfortable. I was so hungry by this time and remember saying to Wayne that this baby will be born by supper time because I intended to eat a big supper! Sure enough by five o'clock a screaming BIG baby boy filled his lungs with air. At 9 lbs 1.5 oz and 20.5 inches long. I couldn't believe how big he looked and how deflated my belly felt. My feeling had been right along that he was all baby in there and that I would probably give birth to my biggest baby yet. We enjoyed skin to skin time for the next hour, an hour I savoured so thoroughly after the ease of the delivery. By six o'clock I enjoyed a big supper! For the next few hours we just sat together in our room, Wayne, I and baby Peter, sharing in the joy of the hours behind us and so thankful for how our prayers had been answered. Graciously, He had given us inner strength and through this labor of love I'm thankful to have seen the faithfulness of God, the miracle in the midst of pain, and the power of prayer.
Peter Ivan Doerksen. He is such a sweet, snuggly baby and so far my most content baby. After two quite sleepless first nights at home he has settled into his own routine of waking, nursing and sleeping, a repeated routine every three hours. Tommorrow he will be two weeks old, the jaundice almost cleared and I can feel his weight has increased considerable after a slight loss. He reminds us so much of Hanna and we already imagine what kind of personality traits he may have.
The look on Hanna's face when she came to the hospital the next day was so precious. Her eyes lit up the dim hospital room and I could just sense the anticipation she was feeling. She adores her baby brother. She had been telling us for weeks already that we would be having a boy and her guess was right. Her help comes in very handy here at home with diapering and getting things for me while I'm nursing. She faithfully comes around with hugs and kisses and holds Peter for long stretches of time.
Jake has had a little more adjusting to do. At first he was a little timid to come toward Peter but after watching Hanna he made his way closer and even tried out his name which came out as 'baby Peeler'. The first night at home he was determined to go back to Aunty Susie's house and had a rough time accepting that he couldn't. Each day has been getting better for him and now he has hugs for 'Peeler' and is often concerned about where the baby is. As for me, the emotions hit me a few days later when I realized that Jake was no longer my little baby and that he was transitioning to a new stage in life as a big brother. It seems so early in a child's life that a mother's heart has to start letting go a little bit at a time and the pangs hit me hard that day. His hands and body seem so chubby now, his eyes so full of expression and adventure. He's morphed into such a 'boy', playing hockey, driving tractors all day long and tagging along behind daddy whenever he can. Thankfully though there are many moments where he just wants to crawl on my lap with a need for some mommy love in those soulful eyes. I've even caught him on the couch clutching a doll close to himself or he's been standing and rocking his baby to sleep.
So thankful for the man who walks beside me. He was the best support I could've asked for in the delivery room, his antics, love and presence encouraging me each step of the way. It didn't take long in the delivery room for Wayne to find his place in front of the monitoring machine and figure out all the mechanics of it. He followed the chart faithfully and kept me updated on how things were looking! The newborn days are a big adjustment too for dads, a time when we have to resolve to be patient and understanding with one another as the hours are consumed with baby needs, wavering emotions and not much time just for each other. Those days will come again and for now we find moments to laugh, talk (mostly about our kids) and dream out loud about the future ahead.
Peter is the perfect plan for our family, we love him so much. Psalm 127:3 says "Behold, Children are a heritage from the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward."
Thanks again for all prayers and notes passed to me through my pregnancy.
Psalm 71:5,6 "For you are my hope, O Lord God; You are my trust from my youth. By You I have been upheld from birth; You are He who took me out of my mother's womb. My praise shall be continually of You."
Christmas has come and is almost gone. Four days of festivities behind us and a couple more to go. Hanna is convinced by now that Christmas will just keep on coming every day. Jake is going to bed each night clutching his toys in his hands and Wayne has two precious mornings of sleeping in after a year of rarely getting the opportunity. Me, well I've been awake for a few hours, it's seven o'clock and since four I've rubbed Vick's and given cough syrup to Hanna, soothed Jake's cries back to sleep, tossed and turned in between. I'm possibly still on a sugar high from all the Christmas goodies and I think this baby has done acrobatics the entire night. So if pondering the hours away in sleeplessness is all I can do I may as well get up and blog about what's been filling my mind over the holidays.
This Christmas season, preparations and decorations took on a much lesser degree of importance. Many of the usual doings fell by the wayside and left room for learning a deeper meaning of the season. The holidays can become so routine amidst to do lists, dollars spent and places to go, so much emphasis on those things that we miss out on what each new Christmas has to breathe into our lives. This year, I don't think I've ever heard so much bad news. Tragedy always seems to befall this time of year. I don't know if this year really holds any more than other years but maybe it's because it seems so much closer to home, closer to heart. Maybe it's the media available at any touch of a button, or facebook statuses and prayer requests, or maybe it's me. Maybe my eyes are open a little wider; facing the reality rather than my daydreams.
Ironically, or maybe Providential, over the last month we've heard a four part series at Church on the Good News of Christmas. Each week we've heard more bad news. Death, senseless mass violence, young children left without a mother, families planning funerals during the holidays, hurt hearts and bodies behind closed doors. Those doors get flung wide open and we're left in shock and disbelief. Yet is it any shock, did Jesus not come at such a time as Christmas to open the doors, to open our eyes, to open our hearts? To give us what He offers. We see and hear this heart wrenching stuff all year long and yet it cuts so deep at this time. Just when we want respite to see lights all aglow and give glad tidings. Joyce Meyer said last week that in the midst of our affliction is often when our bonds are broken. How many bonds do we cover with false Holiday pretense only to miss out on the real Joy that the Lord brings to the World?
I felt the stronghold of a bond last week that I thought I was well on my way to being done with. Fear. It gripped me and held on for several days and restless nights. It was so easy to turn back to those old fears especially when the world seems a little darker. I read somewhere a while back that when fear is present, faith is absent. Ouch, that hurts. As a child, my mind wrestled with many fears and anxious thoughts, looking back now they were mostly self inflicted and never to become realized in reality. The sad truth is those fears chased me right into adulthood and though I've come a long way in replacing fear with faith it still remains a weak spot. A few weeks ago our Pastor spoke on how many times in the Christmas story the topic of fear comes up and the phrase 'Do not be afraid' is used several times. That was something totally new for me to consider in relation to Christmas but as it became real to me last week the words chimed in amidst my fearful thoughts. Do not be afraid. A few mornings ago I woke to see Hanna next to me. I asked her how she ended up there and in her matter of fact manner told me, "oh Mom, I just had a bad dream so I just laid down next to you and fell asleep again." No tears in the night, no staying a wake in fear. Quite different than how it felt for me as a child. Yesterday evening Hanna's uncle was teasing her about her moving downstairs when baby comes and that she would be to scared to sleep in the basement. She just giggled and said "I won't be scared, I'll have my brother with me!" No big deal. My story was different. I was fourteen and it had probably taken two years to muster the courage to move downstairs and another two years working out my fears while I was down there. Craziness, thinking about that now.
Thankfully as much as I was trying to work away the fear, I was trying much harder to pour out my faith in prayer. I opened my Bible a couple evenings ago looking for a verse on fear and Mark 5:36 jumped out in red. Jesus' words and they are a simple, profound truth: Don't be afraid, just believe. He couldn't have spoke any more clearly to me. To break the bond of fear I would have to simply believe. Believe that at Christmas when hearts ache, shock numbs and grief lingers, that in drawing near to the manger in belief we will be filled with a sense of hope. A hope that overcomes. I realized in my sleeplessness last night that I could learn a lesson through my little girl. She had a frightful dream but believed that to simply slip in quietly next to my side, all would be well. Or what fear could the basement hold, knowing her brother would be by her side. If I slip in quietly next to the Saviour's side with belief, the fear subsides. If I kneel by the manger and think about what a baby brings how can I not be filled with hope. As moms, we hold our newborns and we are filled with the hope of a beautiful future after the going through the affliction of painful childbirth. Jesus came to offer us that hope, to open the doors and help us walk through this painful world with belief. That His perfect love will cast out our fears.
I know bad news will keep on coming, it's inevitable. The good news within myself is seeking and learning to overcome the bad news. One of best gifts I received this Christmas was Mark 5: 36 and a prayer of hope. The best gift from my hubby is the way he challenges me think beyond my doubts and fears. I love him for the way he sets aside concerns and pulls in next to the children, whether its rebuilding Lego with his nephew, doing a Dollarama Christmas tree craft with Hanna or taking over my tearful troubles with Jake in the night when he has to get up in a few short hours. I learn so many lessons through him and our children. They are God's best gifts for me. I can't even begin to offer Him enough thanks in return. Drawing to His side, we have spent meaningful days with family around the table, sharing memories and food, playing with our children and laughing with them. Hanna said it was her bestest Christmas ever.
When I was in high school I hung up a banner in my room with this quote on it:
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take but by the moments that take your breath away."
I loved English class and many quotes I came across were jotted down in a journal; this particular quote meant a lot to me. Yet as a sixteen year old girl who hadn't really experienced life in it's reality I couldn't even imagine what those big and often oh so simple moments would be that would take my breath away. Or that often those moments aren't noticed at the time but come as hindsight later on.
At eighteen, I never knew that at the graveside of my fathers' funeral when my eyes locked with Waynes' across the crowd through blurry vision, in a few weeks time would begin my journey towards a lifetime with him. A situation of irony: laying the most important male figure in my life to rest and on to a new beginning with the man who would become the most important male in my life. It takes my breath away.
Delighted in marriage and it's new beginnings, yet I was terrified at the thought of giving birth in the future. A positive sign left me in shocked silence as I contemplated that my world was really about to change. Almost two years after our wedding,2008, our firstborn was delivered into our arms. I went through four days of nurses tending us, many tears, little sleep and a body that felt like it would never recover. I remember the morning we left with our Hanna tucked into a car seat as the three of us sat in the car. I looked back half hoping a nurse was climbing in too and it hit me that this was up to us now, time to take our baby home and learn how to live life in a new way, many doubts and fears assailed me. It took my breath away.
Those newborn days were overwhelming for sure: constant care, falling into bed exhausted, adjusting to new routines and rediscovering my role that included wife and mother. The toddler stage didn't seem much easier with tantrums and a strong will staring me in the face. Yet looking back in Hanna's album as she often likes to do, I don't see the evidence of the trying, tiring moments. Page after page there is a sweet smiling girl wrapped up in cuddles and kisses, with her loved ones around her. Joy exuding her eyes as she takes in the world around her. I took time to snap the moment with a camera, why didn't I take more time to hold my breath and count the moment in my heart?
It seems I went through many growing pains with my firstborn and so many times I've feared that I've only done her wrong. God shows me fruits of the labor though, through Hanna wrapping her arms around me every day as she reminds me how she loves me, through the moral concepts she has begun to understand, the songs she makes up about her family and Jesus, the hearts she cuts and pastes together for the people she loves and the forgiveness she gives me when I humbly apologize for my childish behaviour. The other day she cut out her drawing of Jesus, drew a bible and glued it to His outstretched arms and cut out little hearts that she pasted onto His body. I asked her to describe it to me and she said it was the big Jesus ( she also drew the baby Jesus) and He had the Bible to teach us what to do and the hearts were there because 'we give our hearts to put our trust in Him'. Simple Truth. In that moment I really gave thanks that in all the anxious, frustrated breaths I've taken, He has moved His Spirit through my girl and that out of the mouths of children we have much to learn. It's breathtaking.
Jake. Much to our delight in 2011 we came home with a baby boy. Feeling better equipped the second time around, albeit busier, I took more time in the newborn days to rest at home as it was winter time. I wasn't so anxious to carry on with the other wants in life though definitely still a struggle at times to give up even more of my independence. He sure gave me run for my sanity with seven months of sleeplessness and gassy nights. So tired, so many breaths to take. At seven months it came to me that something had to give. I needed a change and that change was moving my baby downstairs to sleep by himself. He slept through the night, the night after that and almost all night following. I don't know whether it was the timing, him needing space alone, quiet form the train outside or if his body was done working out its kinks but it worked. It left with me a 'I can't believe it's working' breathlessness and took me a while to train myself back to sleep. Finally I was able to find some rejuvenation and focus again on life besides worrying about sleep.
Jake is less than a month away from turning two. He has a spirit that delights and brings many laughs, though the screeching has left us pulling our hair many times. Much of the screeching has been replaced by the world of words he has discovered. It's been so unique to watch a relationship form between him and Hanna. They are each so typically boy and girl. Hanna is in a Barbie and crafting world, while Jake has trains and semis in his hands wherever he goes with a different driving sound for each machine. Together they tickle, run like the dickens around the house, look at books and push each others buttons without mercy. And when they hug, they are just the perfect fit. I watch and realize how much they have changed me in the last couple of years, taught me more patience, gentleness, slower to anger and filled my cup to overflowing. They steal glances at us across the room, with mischief in their eyes and flash us smiles that stop time in its' track and our breath bursts out in laughter. Jake will steal too many breaths some day if he keeps up with his dimply grin, just like his Dad's smile stole mine.
Our family of four is soon to be five. My body creates more space every day to be filled with this growing baby, while we try to create more space in our small home to fill with another baby. Hanna reminds me every day that we are going to have a baby soon, as if I could forget that through the uncomfortable stretching and aches I feel each day. She is filled with glowing anticipation. Her mind is spinning on how this is all going to take place and ever so innocently asked me the other day if she could come with to the hospital to see God's special way of bringing the baby? I lose my breath and my mouth hangs in silence for a bit. I'm not ready for these four year old questions. I laugh and tell her that in due time she will know what God's special way is and it's left at that for now. I felt much anxiousness this past summer at the thought of handling three children but through the last month I have felt more peace replace the fear. The more I surrender my helplessness the more strength through faith I receive. I'm still not eager for the process but I know I can do it and He will get me through it.
This verse has recently spurred me on, not only for childbirth, but to help me through marriage, mothering and learning to be a woman that takes joy in the moment, one day at a time.
Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to
make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Phil 3:12.
I have many more moments to share and my post wil quickly turn into a short story if I don't stop for a bit. The moments will be continued in life and on the blog...
I'm not trying to be morbid, but to be completely honest I'm drawn to the topic of death. As a child the idea of it haunted me, left me so frightened that death would too soon steal me away. I discovered early on in my teenage years that Ecclesiastes 3 would be a defining chapter in the course of my life. I take to heart that there is a purpose to everything that God allows, even death which is so often misunderstood. I never knew how real those words 'a time to die' would become when my father suddenly was gone. A time that really tests what a person claims to believe. Death brings sadness, shock, longing, finality, uncertainty. It's taken me several years to sort out my feelings, to ease the fears. When I started this blog it came natural to me that Ecclesiastes 3 would be at the heart of my writings and looking back at many of my posts I can see that people would think my mind is often on things of sadness and grief. I confess that is often where my mind is at, but not because I want to be sad or negative but I truly seek to learn from reality that these topics play in our life. It is through these times I truly find the answers I seek about God. In order to find answers one must be prepared to embrace the situations through which we find resolution.
Several weeks ago these verses struck me through our Bible Study book:
It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
Ecclesiastes 7: 2-4
King Solomon, the author, reveals that it is helpful to think about death. I took from this passage that God uses death and sorrow to stir our hearts, not towards anger, but toward Him, to his purpose. That there is a beauty and gladness of heart to be discovered through pain and sorrow. It shouldn't make sense, not when in our humanness we want lives of safety, health and happiness. It isn't easy to take pain as a gift, to understand the ways of Jesus above our own. This past year I have seen so many, loved ones and community members, deal with loss, disease and suffering and am so often left wondering 'Why'? Giving thanks in all these circumstances? For what? It doesn't make sense. King Solomon was that wisest man in the world. He prayed that God would give him wisdom and he was abundantly blessed with much knowledge. Only the more wisdom he imparted the less he failed to heed his own advice and spent much of his life apart from God. In the end he discovered the best knowledge of all: that apart from God, life was meaningless and empty, it didn't make sense. And so, when I can't make sense of life and its' futility I can only take his insight to draw myself nearer to the reasons of God. Death and it's eternal value leads me to making sense of life.
Yesterday I joined my husband in saying a final goodbye to his Grandpa who is lying there waiting for Jesus to take him home. I dreaded going at first because who really wants to face those final moments. My humanness wanted me to stay dis attached because it's hard to see death and not be taken back to my father's deathbed. Those verses above though reminded me that it would be okay, I would lay it to heart. My heart reached for the hearts of his children saying goodbye, for Grandma at his bedside. It's hard to say goodbye to a dad no matter what age or stage in life they are at. In the quietness of the room, God gave me a gladness of heart, for I began to understand what a beautiful picture was before me. I cry as I write this for I am truly thankful to have been in that room, to see and feel the peace that was present. There he laid, a man with a lifetime of memories and days behind him, with only one purpose ahead: to join the Heavenly angel band. A man just as human as you and I, not a saint who has earned his way to Jesus, no more deserving of eternity than any other, yet he in his weeks of pain and suffering discovered the secret of letting go of all the temporal things of life and was ready to see the light of Eternity. Who could want anything else in the face of death. I could see on the faces of everyone that despite the sadness of goodbye they are passing him on to Eternal peace and freedom, to the One who truly loves him more than the love we earthly families can bestow. I expected beeps and monitors, and found that everything was turned off. There was no watching a screen. It would've been meaningless for all that matters now is waiting on the Lord. It was joy to sing at his bedside knowing that soon will come praises and songs we can only imagine. I came away ways from there feeling blessed by the experience. There was no fear, no shock. It was different from not being able to say goodbye to my Dad. It took much longer to find peace that way. We would all want to face death peacefully with loved ones by the bedside, but we do not have the choice. I can say though that through two different experiences of goodbyes I have learned peace and meaning through both. No matter the process we are as grass, as Isaiah claims:
The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.”
Isaiah 40: 7/8
God is the only one that remains. Let's seek him while he may be found. Solomon, despite his often negative view of life because of his neglect to heed to wisdom God gave him; encourages us to enjoy life by seeking purpose and meaning of life through God. Saying goodbye at a loved one's bedside without the hope of eternity would leave no reason to find meaning in life. It would feel useless. Solomon ends Ecclesiastes with this conclusion:
Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. Ecclesiastes 12:13
So maybe it's not that morbid after all to embrace what death has to teach us, for if we seek the answers while we live then with confidence we can conclude that though we may not understand all mysteries, pains and struggles of life; we can believe that God takes us through them for a reason. That He may love and breathe us into his arms. I remember sitting as a young girl in a funeral home beside my dad, where he heard the song ''Safe in the Arms of Jesus" for the first time. We came home and he sang that song for weeks on end. He found gladness of heart in the house of mourning. Today I'm thankful for the reason to believe that he is Safe in Arms of Jesus. Jesus, who is ready every moment to receive more into his fold.
Grandpa is still breathing and I pray that his moments of slipping into the arms of Jesus will be moments of peace and that the Angel band will break into harmony.
It's Thanksgiving Monday, and I don't know if I've ever been more thankful for a grey and cloudcast day because, Hallelujah!, there are Heavensent puddles dotting the driveway. I just pray the rain keeps on coming. There is a peaceful silence in a morning such as this and I feel compelled to sit a little longer, breathe a little deeper and enjoy the moment. It seems fitting to have come across this quote today:
“We need to find God, and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature—trees, flowers, grass—grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. We need silence to be able to touch souls.” - Mother Teresa of Calcutta
As soon as the stillness of fall arrives I love to delve into my passion of reading. I am so thankful for the gift of the written word. It changes the world, changes lives, changes the soul. I've been reading for several weeks now when I have spare time; whether it's time of devotion, a recipe book, doing homework in my Bible study book, a series of non-fiction or keeping up with my favorite blogs. I admit sometimes I get caught up in reading so much that my work slacks a little, the clean laundry stays kind of wrinkly and I only respond to the kids after several repeated questions. Sometimes I've used reading as an escape to find a fictional world different than my reality. Many times I read with a searching heart and it's amazing how so often I come across exactly what I need to hear, whether it something I need to change within myself, words that heal a wound and phrases that give new perspective. There is a miracle in picking up something to read without realizing when you start how much the words will apply uniquely to oneself and the moment you're in. Of course we found those miracles in many different sources, through music, relationships,nature, pictures and so on. These gifts of teaching lead us to a better understanding and passion for our broken world. We are led through the mess to a path of thankfulness. I found some of that teaching through a novel I read this weekend. It's a powerful story that affects all of ones emotions, convictions and stirs the heart. A soul wrenching story about a young girls journey and the choices she makes to rise above the despair. I couldn't put it down and can't quit thinking about the character Millie Reynolds in the book "Into the Free" written by Julie Cantrell. Even if reading isn't your thing I would urge anyone to seek out this book. I will eagerly await a sequal and maybe reread this one.
Leaving you with a portion of the Author's words:
I am here. I am here for a reason. for something more than to just breathe, blink, swallow. I am worthy of happiness and love. Worthy of a good life filled with good people who love me in return.....I turn again to the words on the wall just as morning breaks through and beams of sunlight reach the wooden cross. It may make take a long time, but somehow I believe that the broken pieces of me will come back together. Someone, somewhere, is on my side.
Through this story I was reminded that Thanksgiving is not a day or a turkey dinner. It's looking back on our journey and finding blessings through the joys and pains of our life, through the times that led us away from Jesus and the times that we joined Him in his Grace again. That though we have control over our choices we are predestined to intersect with God's plan to bless us and when we search closely we can see clearly how much Thanks we have to offer back.
Not what we say about our blessings but how we use them, is the true measure of our Thanksgiving. -W.T. Purkiser
This past weekend I enjoyed the privilege of cooking a Thanksgiving meal for my In-Laws. It was a first time for me to cook a complete stuffed turkey dinner with the trimmings. In order to to avoid the anxiety I usually get with preparing for company I started two days in advance so that I could take things in stride. I stayed home Sunday morning while Wayne took Hanna to church so that I could get the turkey in the oven on time. It took me back to the days when my mom would stay home from church to cook her holiday meals. Dad I would come to savory smells and country gospel music on the radio. Sure enough, I got in two full hours of the Sunday Request Show and turkey in the oven by Twelve. It felt great to even get a nap in before company arrived. I woke up to a well done turkey and visitors at the door shortly after. It was a pleasure to have my mom-in-law work beside me in the kitchen, she did a beautiful job of carving the turkey that I'm sure I would've mutilated. And thanks to Brian 's forearms we had smooth and creamy mashed potatoes.
So the menu:
turkey with stuffing
mashed potaoes(mom and Brian) and gravy
peas and carrots, marinated carrots(mom)
cranberry jello salad, lovely fruit salad brought by Sonya
butterhorn rolls, rhubarb punch
pumpkin pie and banana cream pie
Menu for the next week? many turkey inspired meals as we hardly made a dent.
We realize at times like this how small our table is when our elbows are touching. However many hearts at the table is much to be thankful for.
After full bellies and a hot house we followed the kids outside. It was a beautiful evening for a bonfire. Mom suggested a family photo and so we wrangled the kids together, wiped dirty mouths and set ourselves up in front of the wood pile while the sun was quickly setting. Pretty good photo for a self timed shot set up on a Little Tykes car.
Jake looking rather grown up these days with his curls trimmed away.
Here's me at around seventeen weeks with Hanna proudly patting. She asks me almost every day if my tummy is still growing. It surely is, as I'm starting to feel a bit like a stuffed turkey myself.
So one Thanksgiving feast down and a few more to go over the next weeks. I absolutely love this holiday. The thankfulness season sets the stage for the coming of Christmas. Each morning I look out in awe of the colors that are so refreshing after the dull dryness of this past summer. The vibrant colors paint a picture of how I want my life to portray living out the vibrancy of 1Thessalonians 5:16-18: Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
I pray that this beginning of October will be such a month, a new beginning of giving thanks in all things.
