Our family needs a different kind of Thanksgiving this year. We need a holiday like these homemade pecan pies. Our pies took a lot of time, but these were intentional hours. Unrushed hours together. We need that kind of a Thanksgiving.
These pecans were from our friends’ orchard. They tasted sweeter because of the conversation we enjoyed while hunting for them. To make these pies, our kids learned the southern art of shelling pecans. Yes cracking and picking them took longer than buying a bag, but our family learned how to find the sweet meat hidden between the hard, bitter shells.
This past year has taught us how to find the meat hidden between the hard, bitter shells. For a few families I love, 2014 has been mostly bitter shells. This has been the season of scary, late night calls and early morning prayer meetings. They’re fighting hard battles of serious illness, of dark, spiritual drudge, of bitter mistreatment.They’ve learned the lessons of finding the meat, even when God sifted out of their lives the parts they held the tightest.
I’m dreaming of a Thanksgiving celebrating these lessons, a Thanksgiving that will redeem their nightmares.
So our Thanksgiving will celebrate savoring. It not be about filling our bellies, or our stockings, or our egos. I won’t cook for show. Our family will serve food that nourishes us bellies and our bodies. Our time will be our offering of love.
I will chose long conversations over quick jokes, because the people I love need the long conversations this year.
This year, my Thanksgiving dream is a holiday when we really give thanks for life’s sweet meat.
