| Sunny Side Up Oct. 8, 2003 � Kathleen Gibson, 2003 Thanks ever so much Lord Welcome back, Thanksgiving. Welcome, sunflowers and autumn leaves. Welcome, cornucopia, spilling your harvest treasures of gourds, mini-pumpkins and bright fruits. Welcome, burnt-orange tablecloth with the woven pumpkin pattern. Welcome, morning sun, splashing jeweled beams the length of my dining table. Welcome here. Some of these decorations are left over from our daughter's Thanksgiving wedding a year ago. I've rarely enjoyed myself more. These reminders flick at my heels, set me dancing in my kitchen before my head even gets the message� "You've been Kendall's mother-in-law for a year now. And you're still friends." Now that's really material for thanks-giving. But it doesn't take a special date to make me remember that I'm thankful. Not even a pumpkin tablecloth or autumn leaves or the fragrance of a bird in the oven. Every so often I stop and record things that have recently caused a gratitude pause. Today I'm thankful for: The sun filtering through the willow out back, its rays tap dancing on my kitchen table. My bed. A cloudless morning, a blue dome of sky, and no mosquitoes. Sweet corn, tangy crabapples and generous friends with oversized gardens. That 20 page handwritten letter from India. Corn mazes, walking trails, small climbable mountains with flags atop. I'm grateful too, for my children who come home and make me laugh. For my husband who makes me other things. For a free vote. A community that values beauty and art. Music. My church. New challenges. For being able to work from home. For the immense privilege of spreading good words, and the Holy Spirit who inspires them. There's more. Life would be dismal without my sister Beverly. Or my women friends. Glenda, Sheila, Esther�too many to mention. Or cinnamon jawbreakers, which are slightly better for you and last four times longer than a chocolate bar. For chocolate bars, nevertheless, and all things chocolate in general. I can't list my blessings without including the stuff that fertilizes my growth-trouble. And the friends and family who've listened and prayed me through all the trouble they knew about. And cheap long distance rates. And Jesus and Kleenex and waterproof mascara and private places to pray. This morning I ate an apple. A rare one, without a sticker. That made me thankful. I drank water from my tap. That did too. At my computer, I thought of how Courtland has rescued us from a zillion computer-generated headaches. And paused to say thanks. I'm thankful for readers who write me, even the negative ones. And easy recipes, food in a box, potluck dinners, and Postum. For my pets, in spite of the fur tumbleweed. For my Swiffer. For Value Village. A furnace, a roof. For summer's lingering farewell. Thanksgiving is so much more than a dining room decked out in autumn colors and heady aromas. For me, it's the peaceful knowing that every small and large thing in my life-good or bad-is sent or permitted by a gracious, good God whose love never runs out. You can respond to this column at [email protected] |
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