During the day, no matter how cold it was, we played outside. Every kid of the 60’s knew adventure awaited us outside, inside was boring. But, boring wasn’t our family. Every now and then, we would peak in just to catch a glimpse of our uncles laughing around the small dining room table. Five tall men, with legs stretched out well beyond the space allotted under a 1960’s table, were reliving their young lives with joy, even though it was anything but joyful. Our aunts were scurrying around the tiniest kitchen while whipping up treats like baked Alaska and pecan pie, along with turkey and dressing. (Seriously don’t know how they did it with one oven and next to nothing counter space.)

It was crowded and loud. There were no jungle gyms, swing sets or bicycles to play on. But, to this day, just the memory of “Thanksgivings past” brings feelings of safety, comfort, and love in a small home in Dallas, Tx.

Thanksgiving for you may not bring such sweet memories. I am sorry and wish I could change that, but please know that God offers you that love and safety.

Zephaniah 3:17 tells us that our God is like a mighty warrior who fights for us. He delights in us, rejoices because of us, and sings over us.

Happy Thanksgiving sweet fiends. Rest in God’s love. Have a great week.

Hugs, Chrys (a blurry but sweet pic of Thanksgiving in the past)