Thanksgiving

This coming week is American Thanksgiving, a harvest festival that remembers those who came to this country for religious freedom and honors the indigenous people who reached beyond their cultural comfort zone to help them adapt to their new home. (Hmm. That sounds like it should lead into a challenge to reach out to immigrants in our neighborhoods, but it doesn't.)

You don’t need me to tell you that Thanksgiving should be 365 days a year. God says, “He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God.” (Psalm 50:23) That means that when I practice giving thanks in all situations, I not only honor God; I establish a habit of looking for what he is doing, and that makes it more likely that I’ll see his salvation at work.

A while ago I began writing down something every day for which I am thankful. It has to be something specific from the past 24 hours. I look for an answer to prayer, a person God has brought into my life, an event where I see his hand, or a gift he has given me. Some days I could fill the whole page, but other days I stare at my notebook, trying to come up with something unique for which I really do feel thankful. I don’t want to fall into a habit of just going through the motions of honoring God. I love being able to look back at the list and see concrete things that God has done for me—especially on those days when I’m struggling to see him at work.

Last week I spoke several times at the Global Impact Conference of Faith Missionary Church in Indianapolis, Indiana. The last time we participated in this conference we felt under-used. Believe me, they have made up for that! It was an exhausting week. Steve was teaching workshops for academic deans in Latin America, so the speaking and relating to donors (and potential donors) all fell on me. By the time I got home to my snug house in the Northwoods, I was nearly catatonic. This morning I looked back over some of the things I wrote on my thanksgiving list last week:

All those hours in the car by myself getting there before non-stop people
A good group of missionaries, representing a variety of countries and ministries
Old friends like Gail, and family like Aunt Millie
Enthusiastic Sunday School children, praying for the boys and girls in Africa
Retired missionaries like Betty who have spent their lives in service
Families who opened their homes for meetings even though they didn’t know me
Strangers who asked to be on our mailing list
Younger women (not just little old ladies!) who are meeting weekly to pray for missionaries

This morning I lolled against the pillows and ate my breakfast in bed. On my thankful list I wrote “A week without pressure.” So what are you thankful for today?

Being grateful

When is it easy to be grateful for a major leak in your basement water pump?

1) when you are home (as opposed to being away for weeks or even months...)

2) when you have just ripped out the old carpeting and the new hasn't yet been installed.

When is it easy to be grateful for a flat tire?

When you find it Saturday morning instead of Sunday morning on your way to church and your granddaughter's second birthday party.

Not hard at all.

Telephone to Jesus

I am now in the U.S. (My agent tells me I am the most traveled author she knows.) Last week was our Thanksgiving holiday, a time to be thankful for more than just turkey and dressing.

I am amazed at my little granddaughter, who just passed her first birthday. Bella’s laugh bubbles over with joy and innocence. She has never known pain worse than bumping her head on a chair as she toddles around the room, or loss more than a few hours separation from her mother. She sleeps cozy in her own crib, tucked in her clean pajamas, confident that when she wakes Mommy will be there with milk or Cheerios or pieces of Graham cracker. Daddy will be there to play or give her a clean diaper. Bella makes weekly visits to the library and has a whole shelf of board books at home that she can look at any time. (So far she is more interested in turning pages than in listening to the story, but she already recognizes her favorite illustrators.) She has a membership at Como Park Zoo and will probably have another at the Science Museum in a couple years. She is surrounded by two parents, four grandparents and uncounted friends who adore her.

Bella doesn’t live in a group home with twenty-five other children vying for adult attention. Nor does she have only a big brother or sister to find food for her. She doesn’t go hungry on Wednesday before Thursday’s distribution of groceries at the center. Bella’s trips to the doctor are for check-ups and vaccinations, not to treat the skin sores or thrush so common with HIV. She takes a multiple vitamin once a day, not frequent antibiotics or foul-tasting anti-retrovirals.

A lot to be thankful for.

Bella lit up when I sang “Telephone to Jesus” for her. It’s a favorite with the orphans at Saint Francis.

Telephone to Jesus;
Telephone to Jesus;
Telephone to Jesus every day.
Hello?
Jesus says he loves me;
Jesus says he loves me;
Jesus says he loves me every day.
Hello?

The children draw circles with their index fingers as though they were dialing an old fashioned rotary telephone. It doesn’t matter that none of them has ever seen any phone but the mobiles everyone carries in South Africa. The children hold their imaginary phones to their ears as they grin and sing ‘Hello?’

Their world is so far from Bella’s. Lord, may the children of South Africa and the children of Minnesota ‘telephone’ to you today and feel your loving arms around them.