This past Thursday, by my calendar, was Thanksgiving. I was blessed to open my home to my family for the annual harvest celebration. I set a formal table each year, thanking God for those who sacrificed so that we can dine in style. But more than the elegant display, nothing replaces the joy of those moments: the shared laughter, the occasional tear and, of course, the dancing.
I had allowed my college freshman niece the responsibility of organizing the playlist for our meal. (I am brave, at times) When we had had our fill of feasting, my niece cranked up the volume to the stereo and began to dance through the living room. My other niece and I joined the impromptu party, laughing, rejoicing--giving thanks for all we were worth.
After my house emptied of family, I watched the evening news and sadly contemplated those people who had spent their day of thanks--not in hunger or pain or want--but in a retail sales line, waiting for the doors to open. One happy woman told that she had come to the store at 10 a.m. to be the first for the 6 p.m. sale. Thanksgiving, it seems, is now "Black Thursday."
Many in the long lines lamented the shift in the culture and were sorry to have missed their time with family and friends.
Black Thursday? Not for me: My home, my joy, my heart gave thanks this past Thursday--and I danced.
I had allowed my college freshman niece the responsibility of organizing the playlist for our meal. (I am brave, at times) When we had had our fill of feasting, my niece cranked up the volume to the stereo and began to dance through the living room. My other niece and I joined the impromptu party, laughing, rejoicing--giving thanks for all we were worth.
After my house emptied of family, I watched the evening news and sadly contemplated those people who had spent their day of thanks--not in hunger or pain or want--but in a retail sales line, waiting for the doors to open. One happy woman told that she had come to the store at 10 a.m. to be the first for the 6 p.m. sale. Thanksgiving, it seems, is now "Black Thursday."
Many in the long lines lamented the shift in the culture and were sorry to have missed their time with family and friends.
Black Thursday? Not for me: My home, my joy, my heart gave thanks this past Thursday--and I danced.
