Series: The Word
I Chronicles 16:34
Like many of you, Thanksgiving was always a time for family to gather, break bread together, and visit. In our family it was a regular time for us to see extended family.
Every Sunday throughout the year we would go to see my grandparents and often we would eat Sunday dinner with them. My Mom’s dad lived into his upper eighties and grandma was still cooking a big Sunday dinner and Thanksgiving dinner well into her eighties.
I loved going to grandma’s house because…well, grandma was there.
I’ve said before she had the most infectious giggle I’ve heard in my life. If was quiet, but inviting.
My grandmother (and her mother) were both 5’ tall and did not weigh 100 pounds. I heard once that she weighed 90 pounds most of her life.
She was an exquisite hand quilter. Her stitches were very tiny and were set into the fabric and batting with perfect precision. Her hand stitches were more perfect than many machine quilts I’ve seen.
She also crocheted perfect doilies. They were so dainty I was a little nervous about holding them.
When I was little I was always a little unsure about my grandpa. He was a bit gruff sometimes, but never really with me. I knew how to stay out of trouble and I made sure I followed the rules.
My grandfather was of a particular political persuasion and I knew how to make him happy (or go into a rant). I knew exactly what to say or what not to say.
He was my dad’s buddy. They would talk for hours, and I didn’t really understand what they were talking about.
I was never sure why they were close until I was grown.
As an adult when I went to work for the railroad a whole new world opened up for me and my grandpa. He worked for the railroad his whole life, he loved the railroad, and he loved loved loved it that I worked for the railroad. See, in a manner of speaking I was following in his footsteps.
He worked as a machinist for the railroad. He was a railroad man.
As an adult I discovered that when my dad was in the Navy during World War II he was a machinist on ship.
Voila. That was the connection.
That was what they had in common.
Plus, after my dad got married when the war was over, he went to college at night and he had a degree in engineering.
That was the world they would talk about for hours.
So, even when the house was full to the brim on Thanksgiving Day, my grandpa and my dad would sit on the enclosed front porch and talk shop.
Mother and the women congregated in the kitchen cleaning up and most of the men were in the living room watching television (which was still a bit of a novelty in 1960).
That’s why when my dad and grandpa wanted to talk shop they would go out on the front porch.
Looking back more than sixty years as I think about what I’m grateful for, my fond memories of going to grandma’s house on Thanksgiving warm my heart to the core.
All of that brings me to the present.
In I Chronicles 16:34 the prophet Ezra* wrote:
“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever!”
As I prepare for this season of giving thanks and I look forward to going to break bread with my children and my grown grandchildren, I remember how very good the day of giving thanks has been all the days of my life.
I do give thanks to the Lord.
God is so very good.
God has been very good to me.
We weren’t financially wealthy. We didn’t live in big fancy houses or drive fancy cars (my grandpa was a Nash/Rambler man), but we had each other and we had God.
We were a family of faith.
When we sat down to the table on Thanksgiving we thanked Jesus and God the Father for the bounty they provided.
As a family we were ever so grateful for God’s goodness and steadfast love that endures forever.
On this Thanksgiving Day I’m particularly grateful that when I sit down to break bread, my Mom with be there celebrating with us. She was born in 1928 and she carries with her a long long lifetime of Thanksgiving memories.
Just as a side note, in the past my older grandchildren love to play cards with my Mom. They usually have a new game to teach her, but she generally wins the game.
A few years ago one of them asked me why she always wins. I told them, “she’s played Bridge for more than 70 years.”
Somebody asked, “what’s Bridge”?
That, my friends is another story.
*Scholars believe that Ezra wrote I and II Chronicles.
Spiritual Practice: Give Thanks
Set aside time this day or this weekend to sit with God and give thanks.
In God, Deborah
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