A Woman's View

What does it cost to live the life we live?

It's the time of year when we fly flags and celebrate the bravery and self-sacrifice of those who gave their lives so that the United States remains The Land of the Free.  
 
Most of the time we don't think much about it. We assume freedom is "natural" because, well, we're Americans.

Not true.

Freedom carries a terrible price tag. On Memorial Day we count the cost in lives. Every one of these headstones represents a life. Someone with a family who grieves the loss of this life.

A place that can never be filled by any other person.

They deserve every honor they get, including flags on their graves for Memorial Day. 

Every Memorial Day flags fly on graves of military personnel graves in military cemeteries and veterans cemeteries all across the country.

Ever wondered how all those flags "magically" get placed every Memorial Day?

Usually we can thank the local Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts and Brownie troops.

Placing flags fits right in with the goals of Scouting, which include building character and being citizens who participate, rather than sit on the sidelines.

Scouts couldn't do what they do without troop leaders or without their moms and dads. As always, parents chauffeur these kids and serve in countless ways as back-up people for troop leaders. These adults give up their time to nurture these young people and rejoice as they grow.

One thing about placing flags on graves. Even the most clueless kids at least once in awhile must think of the bravery of those who died.

That's a good thing, because kids need heroes. So do we all.

The rest of us can never thank these heroes enough, nor those who love them and still feel the pain of their loss.

All we can do is live with courage as we face the challenges of our lives. 

And whatever comes, it helps to remember Philippians 4:13:

I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength.

God bless,

Lenore

Flooding. Tornadoes. Misery. When challenges overwhelm, where do we turn?

Doesn't it seem like the cup of misery is overflowing lately? 

News reports continually feature shots of flooding along the rivers. Water  stretches for miles.

Every one of the homes now almost submerged was the center of family life not long ago. 

That water swirls with  mosquitoes, with snakes, some of them poisonous, and even a few alligators.

Those who've been flooded out and now live in shelters or with relatives can only watch and wait, knowing what they'll find when they get back in.

Thousands of acres of farmland are flooded, too Farmers can do nothing but wait, even though it's crucial for them to be able to get into their fields. If crops don't have a full growing season they won't be ready to harvest before the first killing frost.

Farmers can't forget how all this will affect their year's income. No crop, no income.

Then there are the tornadoes. You could snap photos like this all across the Midwestern and southern states. Destruction stretches for miles.

I won't say, "They lost everything," because it's not true. So long as their family members are alive and well, they have everything that matters, as so many of them said. 

But what can they do when their hearts are breaking? Where can they find strength to go on?

I only know one answer: Come to Jesus. Today I was on misery overload, so I did what I often do, played this Chris Rice song over and over. Somehow this song always speaks to my heart. I hope it blesses you, too.

Chris Rice, "Come to Jesus"

So, my friends, whatever challenges you face, may you find your answers in Jesus.

Peace and joy,

Lenore

As one woman told an interviewer, "It's all gone. Nothing will ever be the same."

If these scenes overwhelm you and me, think what it would be like to be in their shoes.

What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?

Sometimes we forget that everything starts with a dream, a vision of something that is not yet reality.

But what sane person would stand before a mountain of granite and imagine that he could hammer it, beat it or blast it into this grandeur?    

                     

Gutzon Borglum, that's who. A man who didn't give up on his dream. This vision became a burning passion that took over his life.

We visited Mount Rushmore National Park when our girls were growing up. The stunning blue sky you see here, along with eagles circling, provided a magnificent backdrop. We stood there transfixed.

Before us were these four faces, each one 60 ft. high. It seemed we could look into the eyes of Presidents George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. What's more, it was as if their eyes followed us when we walked from one side to the other. We stood there a long time, asking over and over, "How on earth did they do that?"

"They" wouldn't have done any of it without one man and his "crazy dream."

Borglum made it happen. He was 60 years old in 1927, when he drilled the first holes. Over the next 14 years he and 400 other men blasted away and chipped away more than 450,0000 tons of granite. One exhausting day followed another.

In October, 1941, the Mount Rushmore National Memorial was officially declared done. Borglum had died of an embolism six months earlier.

Some of us have a tired old dream we've been chasing around for years. By now we've convinced ourselves our mountain is way too big. We have no chance. Besides, it's too late.

Maybe we've said, "But that will take ___ years. if I start now, I'll be ___ years old by the time I'm finished."

We can't let that question lie there as fact. The obvious answer is another question. "How old will I be in ___ years if I don't do it?"

If that's where you are, you'll cherish this promise of God as I do.

       As your days, so shall your strength be.                --Deuteronomy 33:25b (RSV)

Question for you: What's your dream?

Here's to counting on God to bring us through,

Lenore

 

Half-full or half-empty?

How do you see the glass of your life? Is it half-full or half-empty?                                  

Every day of our lives, we choose. 

We can focus on what have or on what we lack. Give thanks for what is or wail about what is not.

Truth is, we decide what kind of life we're living.

That makes no sense, especially in the middle of a hard time, right?

Wrong. It makes perfect sense. Why make a bad situation worse by holding a never-ending pity party?

I know a woman who as a teenage girl heard her doctor announce, "You have Muscular Dystrophy. I'm sorry, but there is no treatment and there is no cure."

That was more than forty years ago. Since that dark day "Mary" has experienced the progressive weakening of her body. She and one of our daughters have been friends since both were in their twenties. Whenever I go to visit that daughter I also see Mary and I've observed the progression of her M. D. At this point she astounds her doctors just by being alive. In order to remain in her home she depends absolutely on the help of caregivers, family and friends.

They all love her. So do the paramedics who sometimes rush her to the hospital, as well as her doctors and nurses.

Why wouldn't they? Mary accepts the facts of her life without bemoaning her fate. Her smile is as wide as a house and her sense of humor never fails. Through it all, she maintains her feisty spirit and exudes life.

I never heard Mary complain. Her faith in a loving God remains strong and her eyes reveal the peace within her.

Mary spends her days in a motorized wheelchair and accepts various physical indignities calmly. Does she ever give in to frustration? Of course. She's no plaster saint. Does she take it out on caregivers and people who love her? Not by all accounts. Despair may come knocking, but if so, she apparently refuses to answer the door.

Her horizons broadened some years ago when friends installed a user-friendly E-mail program she could manage. She promptly became an E-mail champ, exchanging messages with people all over the country. Since she had unlimited time, she became the go-to person for Google research.

When holding books and newspapers on her own became impossible TV viewing seemed the only way to fill her days. Kindle changed all that. Once again the wider world opened up to her. Mary quickly became the authority on which new book(s) to read.

This past year her increasing weakness threatened to cut all this short. Then came the I-Pad. Now once someone places a stylus in each of her hands she can E-mail, watch movies or read a wide assortment of books, plus several newspapers.

Nevertheless, most of us would consider her glass half-empty. 

Not Mary. She focuses on the fullness of her life, the gift of modern technology and on friends and family who take her places and treat her with love. Mary would say she knows a blessing when she sees one.

Each of us deals with our own set of challenges and our own testings every day. Yet the question for us is the same as for Mary: How will we choose to perceive our lives?

One thing more. Mary calls on God to get her through her days. We can, too.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble . . . I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

--Psalm 46:1; Philippians 4:13

What do you think? Comments, please.

Here's to having eyes that see the fullness in our lives,

Lenore

Why we need to speak Hope today--and everyday

It's December, which in most places means lots of dark, dreary days. Sunrise comes too late and sunset way too early. Then there's the steady stream of dismal news stories. Maybe someone we know and love is in the middle of a down time and we don't know how to help.

No matter what the situation, you and I still have power to affect the climate in our homes. With very little extra effort we can lift the spirits of those who feel overwhelmed by life.

How? By salting our talk with words of hope. After awhile we won't even need to remind ourselves to look on the bright side. 

That may seem a small thing, but actually, it's huge. I'm posting this late the evening of December 7. Back in 1941, after the stunning attack on Pearl Harbor, Americans needed to hear words of hope and confidence from their leaders--and they did. One of President Roosevelt's best-remembered statements from those wrenching years illustrates the point. Here's what he said, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

The Brits needed hope, too, for they were already at war. Winston Churchill's strong, defiant words put iron in their spines. I know a couple of Brits who lived through those days when Londoners spent every night down in the city's subway tunnels, trying to sleep. Every morning they dragged themselves topside and looked around at new destruction and piles of rubble. Then they got to work. I read somewhere that Churchill had a slogan: "KBO." That stood for, "Keep Buggerin' On." So that's what they did.

One of his most famous statements hangs above my desk right now: "Never, never, never give up!"

In every time, in every situation, we all need hope. It's as essential as oxygen is for the lungs. Each of us has an audience, too, even if it's only one other person, and every word we say carries weight. So the question is, are we more often speaking words of hope or words that add to someone's load of discouragement?

I've found it's much easier to spread the darkness than shine the light. How about you? I've also discovered we always choose what comes out of our mouths. (Ouch!)

One thing that helps is to develop a store of Bible verses that speak to our hearts. They come in handy when we're feeling down or want to pass on a good word. Here are three.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

Psalm 62:5

Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.

Psalm 40:31

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13

Two questions for you: Ever been in a dark place and someone spoke sunshine into it? Do you have a favorite verse that always lifts your spirits?

No matter what comes, let's keep smiling and "K.B.O."

Lenore

If your parent(s) told you, "Life is hard," you have a leg up on life

That sounds almost subversive, doesn't it? Don't we hear all the time that moms and dads and teachers and coaches need to plant positive thoughts? 

Maybe not.

Some of us grew up hearing our parents say things like, "Life is hard."

Their boring refrain centered on, "Don't expect life to be easy or you'll be in for a big let-down."

I hated it. So did my husband. But our parents had lived through the Depression. They knew "difficult" and "hard times" from first-hand experience.

Once my husband and I married, we hit our share of snags along the way. For example, early in our marriage, we looked out on a frigid,  icy Midwestern New Year's night and saw flames blazing from our barn roof. The cows! Can we get them out in time?

Somehow we managed to push our terrified Holstein cows and calves out despite flames bursting through the walls. We got them safely corralled, where they huddled together in a clump, mooing and bawling in fear. 

That's when the volunteer Fire Department brigade from the nearest town arrived.

Finally everyone left and quiet descended. I had checked frequently, so I knew our three little girls slept through the sirens and the noise. At first light all we saw from our kitchen window was a dismal pile of rubble where the barn used to be and a shivering herd of Holsteins.

What would do we do now?

First things first. Our dairy cows had to be milked--immediately. Both cows and calves had to be fed, but all the feed, hay and straw stored in that old red barn--with its old, probably faulty wiring--was gone. A kindly neighbor offered an empty shed to shelter the cows from the weather, so my husband and a helper herded the animals down the road to that farm. My husband figured out a makeshift way to set up the milking equipment he had rescued and we were in business.

That fire was terrible. It was a disaster. It was life. 

But in a strange way we had an advantage, because we had been forewarned that life was hard. We were on our own, so no point in wasting time feeling sorry for ourselves. We just got to work. We pulled together and prayed together and coped the best we could. 

As young marrieds we wanted respect, as if we could handle the tough stuff. Now we had to prove it true. It took everything we had and then some, but over the challenging months that followed we grew stronger, individually and as a couple. We saw so clearly how God guided us and gave us strength that our faith grew, too. 

Now we took a softer view of our parents, the "crepe-hangers." Before, we assumed they simply didn't understand that with a good attitude and overflowing love and by using our brains, we would ensure against crises. After the fire we understood they spoke timeless  truth. They were trying to ensure us against being crushed by life's ups and downs.

So I worry about kids growing up today. In recent years we hear all around us the philosophy that we need to build confidence and self-image in our children. We feed them a pablum mix of, "Look at how great you are! You're amazing! Just believe in yourself, that's all it takes. Take your time. Don't rush into anything. You deserve to be happy! When you find your bliss, success will come easy."  Etc.

The trouble is, even "bliss" can be boring at times. And the best of times can have bits of discouragement sprinkled through it. Truth is, life is hard and nobody's life is trouble-free. None of us is perfect--and imperfect people are the only kind there are.

I heard something wise the other day, don't know who said it, "The only people who don't have problems are the ones we don't know well."

Hard times and problems have been the making of many an individual. Those who hang in there grow--and their inner strength grows. The writer of the book of James knew all about that, writing in James 1:2-4.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

That pretty much says it all, doesn't it?

So here's to JOY in the midst of . . . whatever,

Lenore

Hope in the midst of cancer and meaning in the aftermath

Imagine being thirty-two years old and being told the sore on the back of your tongue is malignant. Surgery, to be performed at once, would involve removing most, if not all, of your tongue. Afterward, you might never be able to swallow on your own, nor speak intelligibly.

Hearing that would devastate anyone, but especially a pastor who spends his life speaking, preaching and teaching. Especially the doting father of a two-year old little girl.

Scott Schmieding, a Lutheran pastor then in Baton Rouge, LA, survived the eleven-hour surgery in 1995. Surgeons in Houston opened his neck from ear to ear and removed his tongue through his throat. Then they removed a muscle from his abdomen and reconstructed the cavity in his mouth. Intense radiation followed, which caused mouth blisters. For eight months he breathed through a hole in his neck and ate through a feeding tube. Radiation also eliminated Schmieding's sense of taste and ability to swallow. So he learned a new way to swallow--a quick toss of his head backwards, to move the food to the back of his throat, where gravity took over. 

From the moment of his diagnosis one question dogged him. If he lived, how would he talk without a tongue? How could he communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ? That passion drove him to doggedly persevere in speech therapy sessions. With the help of a special retainer which acts somewhat like a megaphone, he learned to pronounce consonants. To make the "T" sound, for example, he shoots air at his retainer.

Finally Scott Schmieding was ready to return to his life as a parish pastor, wondering always what would happen if parishioners couldn't understand his slightly impaired speech. His first Sunday back he baptized his newborn son, there in the Baton Rouge congregation which had loved and prayed for him and his family throughout their long ordeal.

Schmieding says he never asked God, "Why?" Rather, he prayed to understand the purpose of his ordeal. During the past thirteen years he arrived at an answer. Noting that he and his family also lived through five major hurricanes in Louisiana, he says, "I have become an expert at adversity. I know what people are feeling when they face trials and tragedy."

That's why Scott Schmieding has become a sought-after speaker. His message of hope and perseverance comes through loud and clear. In March, 2010, he became pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church in St. Charles, MO. Members soon found they didn't notice any speech irregularities because they were so caught up in their new pastor's joy in Jesus. 

When asked how he got through it, he points to the Apostle Paul, who faced his own set of daunting challenges. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul repeats the words of Christ to him:

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

Scott Schmieding knows the truth of those words first-hand. He believes he reaches more people without a tongue than he would have if he'd never had cancer. That doesn't strike him as remarkable. "The history of the Bible is the story of God using imperfect people for his perfect purposes," he says. "I'm just one in a very long line of imperfect people being used by God."

I learned of Pastor Schmieding when our daughter in the St. Louis area clipped an article by Tim Townsend in the St. Louis Post Dispatch, the basis for this blog post. I've never met him, but his story lifts my heart. I pray it will do the same for you. If you wonder how he sounds, here's a link to a short clip with sound: http://interact.stltoday.com/mds/projects/html/2428

(If you have trouble with the link, copy and paste it to your search engine.)

Each of us will draw our own lessons from this story of one man's life--and of course, his family's life, too. As I think about the miracle of his healing and the surgery that enables him to talk, it reminds me of one of my favorite Bible verses, Jeremiah 32:27:

"I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?"

God brought Scott Schmieding his long period of suffering and in the midst of it, gave him joy. Despite what looked like the worst kind of loss, he gained not only life through that surgery, but also a deeper understanding of what it feels like to be fearful and in pain. When he ministers to hurting people, they know he's been there and truly understands their emotions and their sometimes doubts.

This story says to me, Live. Live today. Live fully. Live in faith. Don't be too quick to label something "a disaster." Our lives are in God's hands and He often works through human hands.

What about you? What do you draw from this story? Maybe you have a story to share or are living out a hard time. If you tell the rest of us, we can pray for you.

Whatever you're facing, keep on trusting. God is faithful and He can be trusted.

His peace and blessings,

Lenore

 

 

 

Learning from Haiti survivors how to make it through our tough times

We see the images and wonder how anyone could survive this.  And yet...people did.

You've heard the unbelievable stories. Here are two that especially touched my heart. I think these two people have much to teach you and me.

One is Romel Joesph, a Haitian-born music teacher...who was born blind, or so sight-impaired that he is legally blind.

Imagine yourself pinned beneath rubble for eighteen hours, unable to move, not able even to see. Imagine knowing all along that while you were on the third floor when the earthquake struck, your pregnant wife had been on the first floor and you could not know  whether she was alive or dead. (She did not survive.)

Romel Joseph told interviewers how he got through that wrenching time. I caught his story while driving and later looked it up in the N.P.R. archives. Here's the gist of how he survived the horror.

"I knew I could not allow my mind to wander and to keep thinking only about rescue. So I decided to keep a strict schedule, hour by hour. I set aside the first twenty minutes for prayer and meditation," Joseph says. "After that I focused my mind on favorite pieces of music I knew, one at a time. I forced myself to concentrate, note by note, as precisely as if I were directing an orchestra. In effect, that took me to another place in my mind. For that time I did not feel my pain, did not allow myself to wonder whether help would arrive.

"Hour by hour, that's what I did. First the prayer and meditation, then the music. So I not only killed time, but I reminded myself I was not alone. I told myself I was brushing up on my directing skills and I mentally escaped the space where I was."

Romel Joseph is no stranger to tragedy. He founded the New Victorian School in 1991, in Port-au-Prince, to teach music to Haitian children. That school burned to the ground exactly ten years to the day before this earthquake once again leveled the school.

Friends dug him out after eighteen hours lying there with his leg pinned and crushed under concrete. Surgeons also repaired his severely fractured left hand, but they cannot say whether he'll regain full function...and what is a violinist without a left hand that works? 

But Joseph plans to rebuild as soon as he can. As he puts it, "I need more than an earthquake to make me stop my work in Haiti!"

I think this man shows us how in the midst of fears and troubles we can deliberately turn our thoughts to other things, to people we love, to happier times and, yes, to God. Our situation may not change, but our ability to cope will.

Another rescued woman in a television interview (couldn't find her story in print) told what enabled her to hang on. She said something like this. "I lost everything except what matters most," she said, holding up her Bible. "I could not move, there in the dark, so I searched my memory and remembered some Psalms. I kept repeating them over and over, especially Psalm 46. God brought me through this, praise be, and here I am." 

For thousands in Haiti, this was--and is--the worst of times. Thank God most of us will not be caught in anything like that earthquake. Yet I think these two accounts teach us a lot about surviving our own fears and sorrows without crumbling under the load. 

Perhaps you love Psalm 46, too. I often find myself going back to my old, dog-eared Bible, to reread sections I've underlined in the past. Always, that includes these favorite verses of Psalm 46. 

Psalm 46

¹ God is our refuge and strength,
   an ever-present help in trouble.

 ² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
   and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

 ³ though its waters roar and foam
   and the mountains quake with their surging... 

 ⁵  God is within her, she will not fall;

God will help her at break of day...

 ¹⁰ "Be still, and know that I am God;
   I will be exalted among the nations,
   I will be exalted in the earth."

 ¹¹ The LORD Almighty is with us;
   the God of Jacob is our fortress.
   Selah

God's peace and blessings, 

Lenore

 

 

Light up someone's life for free--and warm your heart, as well

Probably you, like me, look at your December calendar and groan, wondering how you'll do all the things you want to do and go all the places you want to go. But hey, it's Christmas and miracles still happen. Somehow, amazingly, you and I will manage to do it all--or most of it--as we do every other year.

Imagine you and I were not here, sleeping in our comfortable beds, warm and toasty as we enjoy extra times of celebration with family and friends. Suppose we were hunkered down in Afghanistan or Iraq, or some other far-off place, away from the people and the life we love. Cold. Lonely. Constantly on alert, not knowing who may be planning to blow you up when your back is turned. Can you feel the chill in your bones--and maybe your heart? Can you imagine how often you pray God will preserve your life? 

That describes daily life right now for thousands of members of our Armed Forces. We pray for their safety and safe return, but I think most of us feel helpless to make even a small difference. So I have good news!

You may have heard of a wonderful project called "Let's Say Thanks." Because of the creativity and generosity of one of those "heartless" big businesses, you and I can send a greeting to a member of the military--and we don't even need to have a name and address. If you go to www.letssaythanks.com (or go to the green box at the side of this blog, which has a link) you will find a large assortment of charming postcard designs drawn by children across the United States.

First choose a design. If you don't know what to say, check the preprinted messages. Better still, write your own and add a personal touch. Your few lines of thanks and caring can mean the world to one alone and not sure what the next moment will bring. If you like, add a Bible verse and say that you pray for the recipient of your card and for our Armed Forces. Then one more click and the folks at Xerox will make sure your card is delivered to a member of the U.S. Armed Forces in locations around the world. If you need more information, click on "FAQ" at the top right corner of the website. You'll find the answers to most of your questions there. On the website you can read letters from some of the troop members who've received these cards and see whether these greetings mean anything to them. 

As easy as that you and I can send a little bit of home and bring a smile. It costs us nothing but a few moments of our time--and let's not stop with just one.

My husband and I are the proud grandparents of eight terrific young people. Two of our granddaughters, sisters, are in the Navy. One is serving her second tour with Naval Intelligence and stationed here in the States. The other is in field support with the Marines. She served one stint in Kuwait and thank God, recently returned from duty just outside Baghdad. We applaud Xerox for providing what's needed to make it possible for these bits of cheer  from home folks will be delivered to our troops. Let's hear it for Xerox!

By the way, you may not agree with having U.S. troops anywhere. As Americans each of us is entitled to our opinion. In fact, protecting that freedom is part of why our troops serve. The point is that these individuals, many of them married and with children, are far from home and alone. They are there because they believe in what the United States stands for and want to protect it...and us.

Most of us would agree that God's blessing has rested on this nation from the beginning. God works through people, both our troops and us. Here's one way you and I can bless the life of one or more members of our Armed Forces.

After all, how often do you and I get to be the sunshine in a dark place?

Happy Getting-ready-for Christmas and God bless you,

Lenore

Question: Do you have a loved one serving in the military? Please tell us about them and where they're stationed.

How can you celebrate Thanksgiving when there's no money for a turkey?

"I guess I grew up poor, but as a child I never knew it," said the woman, a stranger to me.  

"One year Dad was out of work at Thanksgiving. Mom said she was tired of fixing turkey every year and announced our First Annual Rice and Beans Festival, complete with paper hats. Mom sewed each one a bean bag out of scraps and somebody else made a target. After we ate we had a name-your-blessings contest and then a count-the-beans-in-the-jar contest.  

"When I got into high school I realized we lived in a bad neighborhood. When somebody called me 'poor,' I was shocked. 

 "My truth as a kid was that we must be the richest family in our neighborhood. Otherwise, how come my mom and dad found such joy in everyday stuff? 

"They loved each other and they loved us. They said so and showed it with words and with hugs. At our house we laughed a lot. Friday nights we'd make  popcorn and a pitcher of Kool-Aid, then sit around playing games or watching some sitcom together. Sometimes one person would start a story and then stop in the middle of a sentence and the person next to them would have to pick it up and keep it going. Each one of us tried to outdo the other, so it got pretty outlandish sometimes.

"I remember one night we had a snowstorm and the power was out. So my folks said, 'Let's celebrate!' Mom lit some candles and made peanut butter sandwiches. Then Dad spread an old blanket on the floor and put a jar holding one fat candle in the center. We sat in a circle, eating, then singing camp songs and hymns and telling scary stories. Now every time we get together, somebody brings up that magic night and we all remember it.

"The thing is, my parents knew how to make the most of every little thing, from the first dandelion that bloomed to the every first front tooth that fell out. 

"See, we laughed and had fun, even when all we had to eat was beef broth with a few potatoes thrown in and some stale bread to soak up the juices.

"Now I know we celebrated life itself...and being together. 

"It's strange, but my husband and I have a lot more stuff than my parents did and we never celebrate any of it. Neither do our kids. The crazy thing is I would trade this lifestyle for that one in a heartbeat."

+++++++++++++++

So here we are, you and I, at another Thanksgiving. Some of us don't feel much like celebrating right now. 

Some of us are hurting. Grieving. Anxious. Wondering how to meet the next mortgage or credit card payment(s.) Wondering what comes next.

Many of us who saved and put away money for the future thought we had some security. Now we add up the numbers and groan.

So maybe it's a good time to revisit that first Thanksgiving. I suspect paintings like this, put to canvas, long after that day may be, um, a bit fanciful. 

True, those early Pilgrims were thanking God for the harvest just gathered in and for the help of Squanto, the Wampanoeg, who instructed them in how to grow crops. So they invited him and some of his people to join them in rejoicing. 

With food stored away  for the coming winter the settlers could relax a bit. Together they had survived their first arduous year in the New World.  

But let's not overlook the stark truth. One-hundred ten passengers and crew sailed from Britain on the Mayflower. Now less than fifty survived. Only three families remained intact and their rejoicing was tinged with grief.

Those long-ago Pilgrims speak to us today. Instead of getting stuck in mourning what was lost, they turned their eyes to what remained--and thanked God. 

Suppose we, too, add up what's good and right and meaningful in our own lives. What if we leave our accumulated pain with the Lord and thank Him for His presence with us?

After that unbelievably hard year, the settlers entered a new chapter in their lives. 

That's true for you and me, as well, no matter what our age or our situation. Every ending also is a beginning, whether we see it or not.  

What if we, like them, simply trust our future to God and celebrate what is?

That's what that woman who sat in the next booth was talking about. Her parents looked past what was missing in their life and cheered the present moment. Truth is, that's the only moment we really have.

What we see depends on where we look and what we believe in. 

Just in case you're looking for a Bible verse that fits Thanksgiving--and every day--how about this one?

Give thanks unto the LORD, for he is good, his love endures forever. --Psalm 107:1

One thing beats Thanksgiving Day and that's thanks-living. Betcha if you and I master that, we'll learn how to ccelebrate what is.

For now I wish you JOY...every day,

Lenore

What blessings are you thankful for? Your comments welcomed!