Thanksgiving--grateful. Give Thanks. III

Gah, bubbling bubbling!

It’s Thursday, I woke up at 6:05, threw on clothes, walked down with my roommate and my turquoise umbrella to clock in and walk back up to the house and jump back in bed. Dozed in and out to the wind and the rain and the maintenance working in the next room and awoke to coffee and banana pancakes made by Kate. : ) (we have invested a lot in banana plantations and 1820 coffee…) Slow morning, don’t get enough of those. Reflection, don’t take enough of that. Gleaning and amazed by scripture, often don’t slow down enough for that, either. Jumping around the house on a Thursday while my students take exams, fantastic. The rainy rainy rain (since last night—I think the seasons are confused…) helps to cool things off and make me think it’s less strange to celebrate Thanksgiving here, so I appreciate it. Jesus music and giving thanks is so lovely, as well.

Pontification themes—the ordinary and extraordinary. Walking through the mundane and the super exciting. How much the depth and hope of eternity matters because the ordinary can be just so… dull or empty. The flowers wilt and die, moth and rust destroy, people disappoint, there is no fulfillment, everything is meaningless, the shine fades, beauty of youth disappears, passion ebbs, tasks become overwhelmingly miniscule…the little bitty oppressions that threaten to wear and tear and break down like a stress fracture or an auto-immune disease or Alzheimer’s, slowly, slowly, but surely, surely. And that’s quite alright! We have so much more and it starts right now. 

There are good gifts and little things to celebrate amidst all that without being fake or cheap or too idealistic or naïve. It’s just grasping at the eternal and longing for that end of Prince Caspian, end of time kind of feeling when it really all is wonderful and liberating. So sing a song of praise, you’re not held or limited by the shackles that threaten to weigh you down. 

Realizing that within that daily grind, it’s not the little bursts of productivity that we should glory in, although they are in some ways, satisfying, but those seeds and then flowers of patience and hope and deep joy and community and knowing and understanding and purity and beauty and love and grace that we get to experience. Or the work of producing and enjoying the delicious fruit of perseverance and faithfulness, of strength beyond weakness, of peace in chaos, of growth and overcoming, of forgiveness in place of bitterness or irritation. And the refreshment of rest and soothing, gentle, encouraging or even challenging words. The times that acknowledge the ‘beyond this moment’ but also relish the moment, the already but not yet. 

That’s what days like today are for. Reality. Not always super super exciting, but really, it’s quite fulfilling!