Tag: thanksgiving

Kingdom Living

Autumn

Sarah StewartLeave a comment
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

The arrival of Fall, kicks off several months of traditions for people around the globe. There are harvest festivals to attend, traditional family meals, trick-or-treating to do with the kids (if we’re honest though, some of us get more excited about Halloween than the kids do), gatherings and celebrations with friends, and of course the ultimate end-of-year holiday traditions surrounding Christmas and New Year’s Eve. 

For some, these are the most exciting and magical months in the year. Trees begin to change their coloring. Children squeal with delight at the piles of leaves to jump in and illuminated trees (Who are we kidding? Some adults do too). And the smells of cider and pumpkin spice bring back pleasant memories of fireside chats or visiting grandma’s house. For those that love the autumn and start of winter, the traditions they hold with the ones they love are cherished, making memories worth far more than the most extravagant present. 

However, for others, the beginning of Fall signals a time of sorrow or loneliness. In some cases, treasured family traditions once enjoyed have ended as loved ones have passed on or as relationships were severed. Every pleasant memory that comes to mind at the smell of a wood burning fireplace or hot apple cider is chased away by the reality of loss. Parties are hard to attend, the laughter and merriment surrounding them becomes a sharp reminder of what they don’t have, and even in some cases perhaps never had.

These have long been my favorite holidays and season of the year as far back as I can remember. However, in the past few years I’ve found my heart in a tug of war between the joys of traditions and magical memories versus the pain of loss. For the first time I moved beyond empathy for those who experience pain during the holidays, into sympathy as I walked through my own pain brought front and center with reminders of how so many things now are forever different. I’ve also been keenly aware of how frequently people talk about the end of the year with exhaustion, pain, and the desire to leave it behind. 

However, the truth that I’m re-learning in a new way, is that every year holds both pain … and joy, but we may have to put in some effort to find and remember the joy. 

A few years ago I went through the toughest season in my life. I cried loud tears when no one was around. I attended functions but felt disconnected. I recognized my sorrow was from wrecked dreams and empty traditions all lacquered with a happy veneer that some would say they envied. Meanwhile, I felt like I was drowning in hidden sorrow and pain. But I did my best to have fun and not be a buzz-kill. That year I started some new “traditions” (can it be a tradition if it’s the first time you’ve done it?), but still in the back of my heart was keen awareness of loss. It was no way to “celebrate” the holidays. It really wasn’t a great way to “make it through” the holidays either. I wondered how so many people could be happy and joyful around me when I was so hurt and afraid and sorrowful.  As I look back on it, I’m certain it was God’s grace and infusion of strength that got me through all of those broken dreams, but the details of how He did it all seem a blur. The only thing I remember with clarity is the feeling of heaviness.

This year has also had it’s struggles. There have been inner battles, wrestling with deep fears and anxieties, cancer scares, and saying an earthly good-bye to a dear family member just to name a few. However, this year I’m resolved to enter the holiday season with true thanksgiving and joy (not just happiness). I want to cultivate, live in, and record good memories and meaningful traditions. 

I am in no way trying to Pollyanna my way through the end of the year as if nothing hard or challenging has happened. On the contrary, it is the honesty of acknowledging the hardships that helps me to find and catalog true joys. A truth I have considered more times this year than in prior years is that what the enemy intended for evil in my life, God intends for good. This is not a religious platitude. This truth is much more empowering and emboldening. It means that I don’t have to shellac everything with “hard-earned happiness”, but that I can go through the hard stuff and be on the watch for The Father’s goodness toward me specifically.

Here are some things I know for sure as we enter this holiday season: 

  • Isolation isn’t better
  • A wandering, unoccupied mind is dangerous
  • A day lacking gratitude is guaranteed to be hard
  • Dwelling on the yesterdays with no thoughts for the tomorrows is living death

This year I want to be intentional about enjoying and using the time I have. I want to continue the traditions I’ve started with my kids: decorating cookies, attending Christmas festivals (maybe even ice skating), and making ornaments. And I want to look for things that I can do to feed my soul and strengthen my mind. Perhaps some of these are a good starting point:

  • Reading for enjoyment while having a fire on the tv and a cup of hot cider or cocoa in hand (Florida is a bit short on real fireplaces)
  • Indulge in one favorite holiday movie per weekend with a bag of popcorn and a soft blanket on my comfy couch
  • Meet a friend for a hot cup of our favorite whatever and have a nice long, laid back conversation about all our favorite topics
  • Make something special for someone else, like a blanket, or some cookies for the neighbors, or gifts for children who may have none
  • Create a list of scriptures and books and podcasts to keep my mind occupied and learning
  • Start new traditions with the ones I love
  • Write down at least three real things to be grateful for every day
  • Prayerfully give thought to the future and number my days rightly so that I can live and make the best use of the purpose for which God made me

And in all of this, when I feel heavy weight begin to creep (because it will), I will stop and actively look for what is good and reasons to give thanks. I know from personal experience that there is an unexplained peace and joy that replaces my sorrow when I begin to list as many things as I can think of that I’m thankful for.

There will undoubtedly still be moments of grief (this life isn’t perfect after all), but it is to my benefit (and yours) to grieve appropriately and move forward so that at the end of every year I can re-joy-ce. 

I have a friend who introduced me to this perspective by living it out in front of me. At the end of each year, there is no dwelling on or hiding from the hard days. There is no attention given to exalting the coming new year as a way to “get rid of” this one. Instead, we look back at all the good things that have happened and things we’ve accomplished and rejoice in that! How much sweeter is the peace and joy that accompany a posture of praise and thanksgiving. And this is the posture and perspective I want to have always.

I pray for you also, dear reader, that The Father’s Holy Spirit comforts and strengthens you with the joy of the Lord as He reminds you of all of His goodness and loving kindness towards you even in your darkest and hardest days.

Five Small Kernels
Kingdom Living

Five Small Kernels

Sarah StewartLeave a comment

A number of years ago I learned the story of the true first and second days of thanksgiving in the New World. They were actually not held in consecutive years because there was an extreme food shortage the second harvest year after the Pilgrims had landed at Plymouth. In fact, the Pilgrims nearly died that second year as each person had to be rationed a mere five kernels of corn per day. Things were certainly not how the Pilgrims had expected or planned. The very first day of thanksgiving they had quite a good harvest (thanks to Samoset and Tisquantum). The Pilgrims, along with Massasoit and about 50 braves enjoyed a great feast. This is the story that we all know from grade school. However, the part of the story I didn’t know until just a few years ago is the story of the following two years. 

The year that followed that first Thanksgiving, there was not enough food to go around because more settlers arrived from across the sea but they had brought no provisions like that first group of Pilgrims had. The second harvest year, instead of the abundant harvest they’d planned for, the Pilgrims were forced into grim rationing. When it came time to plant again, the Pilgrims needed a harvest at least twice the size of the first harvest. Not only that, but when it came time for the expected rains, there was a severe drought, the likes of which not even the native americans had ever seen. They once again faced dire circumstances, but they trusted God and prayed and finally came the most gentle rain for 14 days straight, exactly what their crops needed. 

The annual harvest feast almost didn’t happen for a second year in a row. However, The Father graciously provided once again exactly what they needed when they needed it and that harvest yielded more than anyone had expected. Once again they celebrated their abundant harvest with Massasoit and this time about 120 braves who brought with them all the meat for their great feast. The first course of their banquet however was only five kernels of corn on each plate, to serve as a reminder of those hard and scary times The Father had brought them through the season before, and they were thankful.

Each Thanksgiving feast since I learned this story, I have recounted it as my own reminder of the abundance that I have. This year especially though, this story hits me a little bit differently. This year, we have faced a global crisis the likes of which we ourselves have never experienced. This year, my family is spread out across the miles for a myriad of reasons: some are quarantined, some remodeling, some had to change plans at the very last minute, some are heroically working hard to save lives. In my case, I decided to take a thanksgiving meal to a few family members that had no plans for a “typical” Thanksgiving due to a couple of these life events. Perhaps that is what got me thinking about those five corn kernels in a new way. Or it could be this global pandemic that has me pondering anew. Maybe it is because I’ve been able to look back on my last thanksgiving, remembering my own sorrow and need that was so great then and seeing how The Father provided for me and brought me through it. Perhaps it has something to do with watching my own children go through difficult disappointments this year. I know that in spite of the figurative “shortage” in their lives (don’t worry we have plenty of food), that The Father will faithfully get us through this year also, even if we are hanging on by the most meager of “rations”.

Whatever the reasons–maybe all of those reasons–I am thinking back on those five kernels of corn with a new intentionality, and I find myself even more thankful this year. Yes, its been a very difficult year for so many of us. We may find ourselves only able to muster up five very small things for which to give thanks – all the more reason to be grateful. This is not the end, by any means. We are still here and still moving forward. Maybe some of us have found ourselves looking back on what looked like an impossible drought that seemed it would not end in time for us to survive, yet we find we have all that we need and in some cases maybe more than that and we are able to share with someone else. Yes, this has been a challenging year, but what a great time to be thankful for especially the seemingly small things in our lives. 

Maybe all we’re able to do is talk to our friends and family over the phone whereas last year we would see them every day. Let’s be thankful for such a small thing as that ability to talk to loved ones on the phone. Let’s be thankful these loved ones are still here.

Maybe we’re only able to gather with the ones closest in proximity to us. Let’s be thankful for such a small gathering where we are not alone and we have plenty to eat.

Maybe we’re not able to do the traditional things we’ve always done. Let’s be thankful for small traditions that are not gone simply because this year is different. Let’s be thankful for the small beginnings of new traditions born out of unexpected and unwanted circumstances.

Maybe our plans for this year have been overturned. Let’s be thankful for the small opportunities to make new plans for the future. Let’s be thankful that in spite of our own overturned plans, The Father still has plans for us, the likes of which are greater than our own, full of hope and goodness.

For me, this Thanksgiving looks a bit different than those of years passed, but after my own season of figurative shortage, I am setting five kernels before me and finding I have much to be thankful for:

  • People in my life that I deeply care about and who truly love and support me.
  • The freedom to move about safely and carefully being thoughtful of those around me.
  • Abundant food to share, even with a small few.
  • My overall health and safety along with the health and safety of my loved ones.
  • The Father’s faithful presence, forgiving grace, and love for me.

Even as I write my short list, choosing only five “kernels” I find is an impossible task. There is so much more I am thankful for. 

Dear reader, I know in the depths of my heart and out of my own experience that even if things are impossibly challenging right now, there are at least five very small things you can be grateful for. Those may be the only five things to give thanks for in the next days and weeks and months to come, but they are not insignificant. Hold on to them. Give thanks. The Father desires to give you (and all of His children) good things because He is a good Father. Look to Him and He will sustain you even in these mere five small thanks-givings until the day that you are able to add a sixth, then a seventh, an eighth, and so on until you too have more to be thankful for than these first five small things. And for those that find that you are looking back on a prior year with meager provisions but staring at a feast before you now, stop and give thanks for what The Father did to get you through that tough season. Then give to someone else who finds themselves in need now. You may be one of the five kernels The Father uses to get them through this difficult time.

Kingdom Living

Rediscovered Thanks

Sarah StewartLeave a comment

 

Being truly thankful every day seems to be one of the biggest challenges. My temptation is to forget the abundance I have. I tend to get comfortable with abundance and I forget to lead a lifestyle of daily gratitude. But this year more than ever I am learning how vital that daily gratitude is, and how it can sometimes be the only thing that helps me to move. 

 

How frequently do we take account of our abundance? This year I wanted to remind myself to be thankful every day so I followed Ann Voskamp’s example and started a gratitude journal. It is conveniently located right by my door on the kitchen bar counter so that I won’t forget to do it. Unfortunately, as I get busy or comfortable, inevitably I do forget about it. I find that sometimes I am so comfortable with what I have, that I don’t see all that I truly have.

 

Even in this month that is a reminder for us to be grateful, if we pause for just a moment, doesn’t it feel like this is perhaps a counterfeit effort we make? If we only give thanks but once a year, at one meal, we are out of practice and studies show that we are living with less peace and happiness. But perhaps you didn’t need a study to tell you that. If we make a list of all the things we want to have or be or do it would likely be a long list and probably would leave us at least a little tired. That list communicates what we don’t have and aren’t being. On the flip side, if we make a list of every small thing we could possibly be thankful for, right down to blades of cut grass, ducks crossing the road, the giggle of a young child, the text from a friend that made us smile, or the music we enjoy, that list has a different effect on us. There is contentment in that list and that gives us a sense of rest. Doesn’t it?

 

My kids and I have somewhat of a “game” that we play: when someone is expressing a lack of thankfulness someone will call out “Tell me three things you’re thankful for!”. It is truly amazing how that little reminder produces a huge shift in our attitude. In an instant we go from stressed to small giggles. 

 

I’ve needed those giggles in my own heart this year. Sometimes there are some really tough things in our lives – things we would never have thought we could or would endure. This season has been harder than I expected. I was trying to voice thankfulness for what I have, but it was counterfeit. It was thankfulness on the surface but had an undercurrent of discontentment. I felt my words feeble in comparison to the weight of disappointment and grief running wild through my mind. My gratitude was weak in chaotic battle with my grief instead of confidently rooted. 

 

I feel The Father reaching out for me, spreading His arms wide, calling me to give thanks from the depths and to come rest in Him… but I’m waiting for the pain to be over, for the depths to stop drowning, for the hustle and bustle and world spinning around me to quiet…

 

The Father knows I won’t make it on my own. Grabbing through the darkness, down to the depths where I’m sinking, I feel His hand take hold of me and I hear His soothing voice speak:

 

“Light shines out of darkness. I know these are hard times but my faithfulness and sovereignty is not established by your deeds nor is it shaken because of them. No matter what you do or have done, I AM still here and I AM able to use it for more than you can see right now. I waste nothing – not the good nor the bad. I AM already working and though you cannot see the end from the beginning, you can trust that I care for you too much to leave you here. My desire for you, my dear child, is good, not bad. I AM your good Father and I want to give good things to you. I am not here to take or demand things from you. I know this doesn’t feel good right now little one, trust me, I have not finished my good work in your life yet. Turn your eyes to see me and your ears to hear my voice. You will make it through because I AM here with you. See? I AM carrying you when you can’t lift your foot to take a step. Listen to my voice and not the lies binding your heart in heavy chains. I have long since unlocked those chains and thrown them off. Let me lift you, carry you, until you can walk again on your own, right beside me. I love you dear one, as I have always and always will. You are My precious child and no one and nothing can come against you that I AM not right there with you to win the battle and help you through. So come now, rest in me. Remember Who’s you are. Remember my real, deep, strong grace that is constantly and consistently sufficient.”

 

For today, I am steadied again. I can see more clearly again. As gratitude tears roll steaming down, I find the real words of thanks that I had been missing. Thankfulness begins to spill forth with my tears… Thank you Father for these reminders … gradually drops become small streams, and then rivers of grateful joy pouring forth all the things coming to mind: the smells of the season, my favorite seasonal drinks (cider…yumm), kindness of the truest of friends, smiles on my children’s faces, fall leaves and cooler weather, music to soak in, planning new traditions, choruses of people singing, festive lights chasing the darkness away…

Kingdom Living

Banquet at The Father’s House

Sarah StewartLeave a comment

My most favorite memories are those around the holidays. Every gathering with beloved friends and family lights me up inside. Yes, there are some sad memories around this time, but the sweetness of good “old” memories and being surrounded by people I love overrides the bitterness of sorrow. I started imagining what a holiday gathering might be like at The Father’s house.

“Is there anything I can help with?” I ask The Father. He is making all the final preparations for our feast and there are lots of other people there helping as well.

The Father welcomes me in and gives me a big hug before inviting me to participate with Him in preparing for the feast (kids always want to help).

“You can help set the table, daughter.” He gives me a purpose, and points me to the gold and silver dishes and utensils we will be using for our feast. 

I finish setting the table just in time for the food to start coming out. Finally, the table is fully set and the food is bountiful. There isn’t a single favorite missing! Turkey, ham, lamb, stuffing, sweet potatoes, and mashed, green bean casserole, casseroles of every kind, corn (we need a reminder), bread, even homemade cranberry sauce (don’t judge – my Grandma had the best recipe and I loved it!), and the list goes on! Drinks have been poured. We’re all ready to dive in.

The banquet room is warmly lit. Not from a fire, but by the glory radiating from The Father. The room is intimate, but big enough to hold all the people I know and love and the people they know and love and so on. Dimensions are a weird thing at The Father’s house.

The head of the table comes to His seat – Jesus. Looking at The Father, Jesus expresses His thanks for the feast we are salivating over and then proceeds to carve the turkey. He serves each person Himself before sitting down to begin eating from His own plate.

Conversations around the table are sweet and the food unimaginably good. I stop for a minute to listen – it sounds like the whole room is singing. Though all the conversations are different, the song that is being made from it all sounds melodious! It’s not overwhelmingly loud either because no one has to yell to be heard. I realize I’ve been smiling since I got to The Father’s house. I pause for a moment to take it all in. The glow of the room. The beautiful decor. The “background music” from the humming conversations. And all these wonderful people. I look over and see The Father looking at me with a smile on His face.

“All of this is for you, my beloved one. I am glad you came to sit and fellowship with me. I love watching you enjoy all that I have provided.”

My heart is full (and my stomach too). 

But it’s time for desert and coffee! Not sure how I could fit more into my stomach, but this is one of the best times of fellowship.  I pull the comfy chair up next to Jesus who is sitting by The Father. Coffee steaming on the end table, dessert in hand, we talk for hours. I listen again to old stories I know, but there is always something new The Father tells me in those stories. Jesus patiently listens as I pour out my heart. I tell Him everything on my mind but nothing phases Him. He listens intently as if He didn’t already know all these things I’m talking about. And when I finally give Him space to speak, His voice and instruction are gentle and loving. I always learn so much from Him.

I’m grateful to be sitting right here, right now. There’s nothing better than feast-day at The Father’s house. I don’t want to say good-bye or good-night. I want to hold on to this beautiful thought. The Father reminds me that there are even more wonderful things, things beyond my imagination, in store for me in eternity.

This small imagination of mine surely pales in comparison to what it will really be like when we finally get to feast at the banquet table in Heaven. Would you sit for a moment and imagine with me? What does your perfect feast have that mine doesn’t? Who is at the table with you? One thing is certain, God The Father, and Jesus His Son will be there welcoming us with open arms and it will always be the best feast ever.

 

And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the Lord, will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them. I am the Lord; I have spoken. And I will make them and the places all around my hill a blessing, and I will send down the showers in their season; they shall be showers of blessing. And the trees of the field shall yield their fruit, and the earth shall yield its increase, and they shall be secure in their land.
– Ezekiel 34:23-24,26-27