There are still blessings in barren regions

For the last few weeks, I have been preparing for Thanksgiving. I picked a recipe put of Real Simple. I discussed the logistics with my mother-in-law. All the while, my head swam in images of past Thanksgiving meals. The yams swimming in marshmallows, the herbed stuffing, can-shaped cranberry sauce, and flavorful ham. The dicy political conversation, the competition between the guys voices and the football annoucer, and the serious discussion about food line clogs at the buffet in the kitchen.

The day before this Thanksgiving, I was in a funk. I couldn't put my finger on it. I thought maybe it was the distance between me and my relatives. My parents are in Florida and New Mexico. My grandparents live in northern frozen regions on this state and in New Mexico. But that wasn't it. Most Thanksgivings, my parents and I had dinner at our house with just us when I was little.

This year I was spending it with my inlaws. The food would be the same. In fact, I have spent almost every Thanksgiving with them since I got married. That's when it occured to me. Something happened six years ago around this time of year.

Six years ago, I was in love with my best friend. He had told me several times that he wasn't interested in me in that way. I figured that God would work things out whether I was supposed to be with him or not. His mother, my mother-in-law, invited me to Thanksgiving since I didn't have anywhere else to go. I later found out that Thanksgiving was not only her birthday, but their family's bigger holiday. Within the next couple of weeks, my best friend and I started dating. We got married ten months later. It was a dream realized.

Now, six years into the future, I was looking at dinner with him and his family but still apart from him. It felt like I had returned to the place I was before. Only, now, there seemed to be less hope for us to be together. I tried to focus on helping my mother-in-law. I went down the night before and we made pies and cookies. The next day, we made dinner and played with my daughter. She showed me tricks to Thanksgiving dinner. We talked about my job, school, and my daughter. It was a wonderful morning.

When the crowd arrived, I tried to put on a brave face. I made small talk. We prayed and ate dinner. I listened to the chatter of my husband, his friends, and his family. I held back tears several times. It was and wasn't as it should be. After desert and some visiting, my husband left with my daughter. In their absence, a wave crashed down on me.

Once again on the verge of tears, I looked at my sister-in-law. "It's been a long day," I tried to explain. "It's okay. You're with family." I nodded and got myself some pie. We filled the rest of the evening with Farkle and conversation. Later, I walked into the kitchen. I needed something to do. I rinsed the dishes and put away clean ones. My mother-in-law came in and said, "You really have changed in the last year." I thanked her. Pretty soon there wasn't anything left to do. I put on my hat and looked at all the pictures on the mantle. The one from our wedding was gone.

The hole in my heart ached. My father-in-law gave me a reassuring look. I said goodbye. In the car, I was alone again. I called my dad. But eventually, we had to say goodbye as well. I sat in my apartment alone. The next morning, the funk had yet to leave. When my husband brought my daughter back, I tried to dry my tears. She came in and we picked out a movie for her to watch. Then, she climbed onto the loveseat. She grabbed her blanket and mine. As she situated herself, she sweetly looked up at me and said, "Okay, mommy here's your spot next to me."

We watched the movie and snuggled. And I moved on to the tasks of the day with little bouts of crying. It wasn't until supper time that something foggy on the edge of my brain came into focus. I was making up plates of Thanksgiving leftovers for the two of us. As I microwaved the food, I thought about Thanksgiving and about giving thanks.

It has been a rough year. I spent some of it depressed. I spent some of it discovering the ins and outs of divorce decrees. I found out that my grandfather passed on my birthday. I lost a lot of dreams and plans. I have lost some friends. I have been separated from my best friend and husband. It has been a year of loss.

Yet, that isn't all that has happened this year. I have rediscovered myself. I have grown and changed. I have learned (and will continue to learn) to trust God. I have watched my daughter grow into an exciting, intelligent, and considerate little girl. I have come to know my inlaws. I have discovered a second family. I have found new and old friends. I have found part of God's will for my life. I have witnessed a miracle in the life of one of my friends. I have heard the whisper of an exciting Lord and am experiecing His healing in my heart. I am back on the biggest adventure of my life that I started as a little girl in the woods. I have found a new direction for the book I have been working on. I have taken a step out there and started this blog.

Somewhere in the turbulent emotions and bustle of Thanksgiving Day, I lost sight of the actual attitude behind the day: giving thanks. "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, with surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Phillipians 4: 4-7 NASB

These verses extol us to give thanks in the good and the bad. Even when bringing something before him, we should give thanks. I have a lot to give thanks for. Like my sister-in-law said, I was with family. I recieved many compliments on my contributions to the meal. I spent quaility time with my mother-in-law. It was a good day, even with the pain.

It reminds me of the little ditty that Bing Crosby sings in White Christmas.

"When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings."