By Kristen Entwistle

As my family gathered around the table last week to celebrate Thanksgiving, I found myself caught up in the to-do list.  Is the table set?  Is the right tablecloth on the table?  Is the pumpkin pie made?  Is the turkey carved?  Why isn’t the gravy thickening?  Are the candles lit?  Why isn’t everyone at the table?  Oh no, we forgot the butter!  Are the sweet potatoes done?

After the dishes were put away, the pie and turkey had been consumed, and the Lions won (what!!), I finally turned my attention to giving thanks.  It wasn’t about the turkey, or the pie, or the game of Dutch Blitz I won, or even football.  It’s about saying, “Thank you” even when you don’t think you have anything to be thankful for. 

Thank you in the midst of the unknown, in the middle of cancer.  Thank you in the midst of funerals and hospice care.  Thank you even when the world and its violence doesn’t make sense.  Thank you in the middle of the falling apart, the impossible, and the unexplained.

It’s thank you when all you see around you is the darkness, the violence, the unknown.  It’s thank you for what I have, even if it seems so little – it’s more than I deserve already.  It’s thank you for every day, not just this day, the day that reminds me to be thankful.  It’s thank you for the food on my table, and the people around it, both near and far.  It’s thank you for life, and love, and learning, and growing.  It’s thank you for the cross.

Thank you for Your grace – because it is something freely given that I do not deserve, or have to earn.

Thank you for Your love – because it is perfect, holy, and true.  It is so much more than I ever can imagine.

Thank you for Your mercy – on me, a sinner.

Thank you for Your Son – the Savior of the world, whose advent we await with confident expectation this season.