Full of Thankfulness

It is 5:00 on the night before Thanksgiving. We are waiting for the girls to arrive from work and boarding school. Sam has tidied up the kitchen and I have two persimmon puddings steaming away on the stove. Otis is springing around the house, challenging us to a game of chase. It is crisp outside and the mountains were beautifully purple against a coral sky tonight. I had a wonderful walk around the neighborhood before coming in to the warm, good-smelling house. It is so much happier this year than last and I am truly grateful.

Daddy died a little over a year ago. It was our first Thanksgiving and Mother was alone in New York, not doing well at all. The neighbor in the house behind our property had a house fire and lost just about everything. We were still grousing about having to live in this little rental. I was not as happy in my work as I am now. I was waking up at 4:30, tossing and turning until time to get up. So much has changed.

We are much closer to buying a home. I am teaching full time now, not directing a clinic. I am sleeping through the night and waking up with enough time to spend time with God before dashing off to work. An 11-day trip to Peru is coming up in a few weeks. And I just found out that I have the entire summer off teaching so I can get caught up on my writing. Maybe part of spring quarter, too. What relief that will be.

Mother is living here and is doing well at adjusting to life in her new setting. She is not shoveling snow or struggling with wood in her kitchen stove. It was wonderful to see her smiling and chatting away last evening. Her retirement center hosted a Harvest Celebration meal for residents and their guests. Sam and I were delighted to go and be seated across from Mother and her friend, Dottie. Those two chatted happily along, as did Sam and Dottie's son--the mayor of our town. On the other side of Mother sat a teen-aged girl who was dying of boredom. Next to me sat the little man who accidentally climbed into my car one afternoon. A few seats down from him was Marge, the 103-year-old woman who Chris Hanson featured on Dateline a couple years ago. She was weighing in on the political conversation at that end of the table. Mother glowed, so happy to have us come so she could introduce us to all her friends. After dinner we went up to her apartment where Sam oohed and ahhhed about it and helped her with her VCR.

I am grateful that life is so good for us, and that we are happy in our marriage. For one who has worried most of her life about how things will work out, how I would be able to get through the next degree, pay the next bill, find a husband, or know enough to teach anything, life is in a good place. God has been generous and gracious to us. Heaven is cheap enough, and life here has been good.

I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8: 38, 39