When Thanksgiving is Hard

Tonight we're busy preparing for tomorrow's day of family and feasting...

Turkey is thawed, baking pies fill the kitchen with scrumptious aromas, and tables await the abundant plenty that will make us all beg for mercy. 

and yet...

The news blaring from the heartland is full of anger and hurt.  Harsh pictures from a place far away, but so near, intrude on our blissful Thanksgiving gathering.  Two worlds colliding...

There are scenes of Violence and Looting.  Interviews filled with Tears and Loss.  A story of Turmoil and Flames.  Lives changed... Forever.

It feels somehow wrong to celebrate and laugh with our friends and family... as if we too should take sides...

So, how?

How do we give Thanks when the Rage and Bitterness flow unchecked...when hearts are heavy with Strife and Brokenness...

I have no answers for this unfathomable racial divide.  The wounds run deep. The charged tension that is destroying our very social fabric seems to have taken a life of its own.

My heart aches for the ones so injured in all this.  Families that will wake up tomorrow with what?  It could hardly be Thanksgiving... for as sure as the sun will rise, the anger and hurt that simmers leaves no room for gratitude.

And we plead for peace, but find conflict.  We pray for miracles, but lose faith.

Gratitude eludes us... again and again...

And just when my soul despairs...

Hope.  It walks right in.

With darling sweet dimples and flashing black eyes.

 

 

 

A daughter and son-in-love who have taken an extraordinary leap into the fray.  

 

 

This mother's heart sees no color... just chubby hands that need holding, little feet that need guiding, and a small soul that needs loving...

 

 

Thanksgiving.

It is here.

 

 

Tonight we rest in the presence of Grace...

 

 

The Beauty of Your Gift

Our Big Boy is making one last play for the ladies before summer comes to a close!  He knows he's gorgeous and loves to strutt his stuff!

This is our 3-year old India Blue Peacock.  He and his "harem" range the farm and keep us mostly insect and snake free.  They love bananas, cat food, grasshoppers, and poultry scratch in that order.  They are quite tame, but have an eerily haunting call that never fails to scare our guests half to death!

The annual tail feather molt usually begins in the fall, but due to the extreme heat stress this summer, we've been finding feather treasures around the farm for the past couple of weeks.

Enough feathers, in fact, that our niece, Sami, was able to make a peacock feather bouquet during her visit last weekend:

She was quite intrigued by the variety of feathers and couldn't believe they all came from the peafowl.  It's true, the peacock's beauty comes from the intricate weaving of at least 7 different types of feathers.  We did our research and this is what we learned!

There are Eye Feathers:

 Sword Feathers:

Butterfly Feathers:

Mottled Wing Feathers:

Big Wing Feathers:

Blue Neck Feathers:

Tiny Green Back or Saddle Feathers:

And then there's the gossamer soft Rump Down, by definition not even a feather at all, but wondrous just the same:

Many Feathers, One Gorgeous Bird!

And it occurs to me that, like the peacock, each of us has something of beauty to offer to one another, to the Body.  A gift, a talent.  Perhaps it is something small and seemingly un-noticed like the tiny Saddle feather or maybe large and showy like the dazzling Eye feather.

In our journey, we've been ministered to by many.  Each beautiful in their own way.

The doctors and surgeons, Eye feathers to be sure, but also the nurses and technicians, who are like the strong and silent Wing feathers, not often seen, but lifting us up with each gentle touch.

Or maybe, it's the cook, the chauffeur, the card-writer, the tiny Saddle feathers, each small gift a token of their love.  And the prayer warriors, like Sword feathers who hold the line in faith and bind us tightly to the One who is able to Heal above all else.

Or the family who never leaves, who loves, listens, scolds, and encourages, like the blue Neck feathers, a collar of solidarity through it all.

And the ones who gift us with mercy and grace by being there with a soft shoulder to soak up our tears, like the gossamer soft down that provides a sweet relief from the raging storm.

Graceful Splendor by Blending the Many into One Beautiful, Harmonious Whole.

We have been blessed utterly by the outpouring of your many gifts, your talents.  Mom is touched beyond measure, and knows completely that she is loved.  Even in the midst of battling pancreatic cancer, she counts these offerings as things of beauty.

Hearts Overflowing, Humbled by Love....