America celebrates Thanksgiving this Thursday. If you're reading this, you most likely know this is so. You are probably one of thousands who are thinking of preparing food, thinking of cleaning the house, thinking of the little last minute ironing of the tablecloth, thinking that if you don't stop thinking you'll never get any sleep. It's a busy time, even if you are not hosting a dinner for far flung relatives.
I like thinking of dinners past. The times we gathered in the living room of my grandmother and grandfather's house, with all the leaves of the table inserted and the table groaning with food. The first time my brother-in-law fried a turkey and again the countertop laden with more food choices than one single human could possibly eat! Thanksgiving seems to be the time when our endless bounty overflowed in the delectable dishes spread out before us. But a tradition that has been kept from one year to the next, before we load our plates with all the temptations gustatorial, is when we either stand or sit around the table holding hands and thank The Lord for our blessings. It's never a very long prayer, or very eloquent by some standards. But I have always felt that the presence of The Lord around our table, laughing with delight at our foibles and antics is central to the celebration.
I hope you will invite The Lord to your table this year, as we invite him to ours. I know he would rejoice at the invitation, even if you didn't iron the tablecloth.
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