We’re sitting around the family table. I can’t help but smile. Can we all share one thing in which we’re grateful? The laughter is contagious. Dad’s at the head of the table~Momma seated by him. My sons, daughter-in-laws, sisters, brother-in-law, niece, and for the first time, my grandkids are with us too.
An hour before we sat down we had joined Mom in the kitchen to break up bread for dressing (and sample any other divinely delectable dishes that will soon blanket the family table). Our hunger had time to build (who would dare show up to Mom’s “not hungry”?). Yet, we knew there’d be leftovers to share with others; and with those who had none. Today we are thankful. Shouldn’t I feel this everyday?
This isn’t how Thanksgiving is going to look this year. For many of us. We won’t be sitting at the same table. But my plate is still going to be full.
“Carve the turkey please!”~I’m going to carve time each day to sit in silence with thankfulness and praise.
“Dip me some mashed potatoes.”~I’m going to soulfully dip more discernment and determination.
“Pour on that gravy!”~I’m going to pour on the gratitude over every little thing in my life. And you can bet I’m gonna pour some on you.
“Grab a roll!”~I’ll drop anything too hot to handle and “bona fide butter up” Jesus for being my bread of life. I’ll do my best to grab the things that matter the most.
“Dish me some green bean casserole!”~I’m going to dish out positivity, kindness, and concern as much as possible; and season it as needed.
“Scoop me some stuffing!”~I’m going to take every opportunity to scoop out negative thoughts and shovel in repeated positive thoughts of love and truth.
“Slice me off a piece of that pie!”~I’m going to slice, into bits, the mega moves that like to leave me with “pie in the face” and swap it with a huge sliver of the sweet things in life.
“Hand me a napkin please!”~I’m going to continue to wipe off what’s messy and being thankful for the clean towel provided each day.
How full is your plate? For some, our plates are full of all the things we need to do or feel we should do. For 30 days I’ve spent many hours in my tiny space excited, and a bit scared, about a new move. My plate is full. And ironically, they’re paper plates~I can’t put anymore on them. Soon I’ll be sitting in my new small house (bigger than “tiny”). No longer will I live in a home on wheels. I’ll have bigger cupboards to fill and a full-size refrigerator. I’m not going to worry about my black and gray tanks, my propane levels, and the space. I’ve learned from my own family, and by living “tiny”, one really doesn’t need much. And as soon as I have my own family table again I’ll plenish my platter with what really matters.