Sometimes we rail, rant, raise verbal fists (and even, with any luck, consciences!) in newsletters, tweets, posts — on The Table, in the world. Sometimes we burst out in energy and enthusiasm in the streets, in the parks, on the concrete steps outside our churches, and the concrete piazza outside the Vatican. And sometimes, imitating God, I guess, we rest.
Sometimes we just sit back and take a breath and grow thankful for what the long struggle has already given us and continues to give us: each other. That is the gift that has and will see us through whatever is to come.
This Thanksgiving I am especially thankful for all of you, and I am grateful for having a day of gratitude, a day of rest from the challenges, a day to remember and say thank you.
Each year, as a mealtime grace, I read a passage from an article by Anne Lamott (Traveling Mercies, Grace Eventually, Help, Thanks, Wow, and most recently Hallelujah Anyway) called “Counting Our Blessings”.
At Thanksgiving, she says, someone always manages to say grace:
I think we’re in it for the pause, the quiet thanks for love and for our blessings before the shoveling begins. For a minute, our stations are tuned to a broader, richer radius. We’re acknowledging that this food did not just magically appear: Someone grew it, ground it, bought it, baked it. Wow.
We say thank you for the miracle that we have stuck together all these years, in spite of it all; that we have each other’s backs, and hilarious companionship…We pray to be mindful of the needs of others. We savor these moments out of time, when we are conscious of love’s presence, of Someone’s great and abiding generosity to our dear and motley family, these holy moments of gratitude. And that is grace.
Happy grace-filled Thanksgiving.