progressive thanksgiving

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We had a progressive meal this Thanksgiving.

Progressive: happening or developing in stages; proceeding step by step.

The meal started here at my house. We had veggies and dip.  There was also fruit and a family must have for holidays; oobleck.  I’d give you the recipe, but then, well, you know what might happen.

We moved on to my sister’s house for the main meal, turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes.  You know the drill.

It’s walking distance from my sister’s house to my parents house which is remarkable.  None of us grew up here.  The times my family moved while I was growing up is probable more than average.  Wide sweeping moves halfway across the country and back again.  Yet here we are, most of us, settled in this desert.  It is staggering and beautiful to me.  None of our moves to this desert were easy.  There has been so much pain in the coming here – past and present.  And there has been so much beauty to rise out of the pain, and so much more to come, we pray.

So we are in a time and place where we can walk from my sister’s house to my parents house.  Which is what we did after the feast of turkey for dessert.  Among the choices mint brownies, pumpkin pie and also pumpkin ice cream pie with hand made maple whipped cream. Such riches!

Thanksgiving: the expression of gratitude, especially to God.

And now here I am in a quiet and dark house thinking about this wonderful day that is done.  Thinking about the progression of thanksgiving.

Thinking about how I can start off counting my blessings and they can, don’t get me wrong still be worth counting, but maybe they are a bit lightweight.  Just starters.  And maybe sometimes I stop there in my counting of my blessings.  Not letting it progress.  Because if it does, the giving of my thanks gets fuller – meaty.  Complex and complementary flavors of thanksgiving mingling on my plate.  But there is still more to go.  I could stop there, but if I did, I would miss out.  There is sweetness waiting for me if I push on – maybe painfully so, to keep counting blessings.  To keep finding them in the pain and hurt and hard and rugged beauty.  To keep my heart turned to praise and thanksgiving.  To keep my lips counting the blessings that there abundantly surrounding me.

The progression of my thanksgiving.

I’m sitting here in a dark and quiet house after the hours of having been gathered together with family.  After having come home and watching my three kids turn out all the light and gather around a flashlight laughing and playing.  I’m sitting here in this dark and quiet house thankful for a picture of a day that reminds me to press on, to not stop at the start of my counting, my looking for and finding and giving of thanks.  But to keep going deeper, longer, harder to the sweetness that is waiting.

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