Rushing Past the Richness
It was mid-October, and I stood in the Halloween candy aisle when a splash of red and green caught my eye. At the far end of the Halloween candy display, a clerk was shelving Christmas candy! As I watched him, this question surfaced: “What about Thanksgiving; what’s the rush?”
I shoved my question aside, yet like apples bobbing in a washtub, it kept resurfacing. Halloween came and went along with its garish décor. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Christmas displays went up in the stores. The 24/7 Christmas programming began on the local radio station, and my coworkers chatted about putting up their Christmas trees. It gave me pause, and the same question resurfaced: “What about November and Thanksgiving; what’s the rush?”
Did we skip November? Is November vanishing, in all its richness? I realize it’s sandwiched between Halloween costumes, fun-sized candy bars, and the Santa cookies of Christmas, but it’s still on the calendar, right? In our mad rush toward Christmas, have we forgotten the meat in our proverbial turkey sandwich?
Do we now leap from Halloween into the six-week frenzy we now call “the holidays”? Is it the new precipice from which we leap into a sea of twinkle lights, jingle bells, and the quest for Christmas magic? Has it been swallowed by the ghoulish gore of Halloween and the inexplicable appearance of the elf on the shelf? Whatever became of November? What’s the rush?
We all know that when we’re in a hurry, we often miss important things. When we rush through November, we’re missing some important things as well.
When we rush headlong past November, we miss the cues and rhythms of nature. November urges us to slow down and take stock of our blessings; in fact, November gives us permission to do so. Here in suburbia, our survival is not directly linked to the land. Our food comes from the supermarket rather than from our fields, gardens, or from the hunt. As a farm girl, I was well-acquainted with the land and the changing seasons. The timing of the Thanksgiving holiday was not lost on me. The harvest was usually complete; the garden was done. Even the canner was put back in the pantry, as the apple harvest was complete. Deer season opened, and with it appeared the ubiquitous hunter orange vests. Pickups often lined Main Street on November mornings with the predawn kill lying in the truck bed.
In the crisp early mornings, a hush settled over the frosty fields. It was the quietness of harvest’s end—the transitioning of the seasons. With a dusting of snow in our recent memory, we began to settle in for winter. The huge task of harvest was completed, and there was finally a moment to rest—rest, breathe, and reflect on the goodness of God.
Though Thanksgiving is November’s most prominent holiday, thanksgiving is more of a mindset. It’s an attitude that shifts our gaze away from our pressing busyness or chaotic circumstances toward the rich and overflowing blessing and provision God has already made on our behalf. We celebrate all the good things God provides. We celebrate His Sovereign protection, our family, and our friends. We celebrate the bounty He provides that is so evident at our feast.
When we are in a rush toward Christmas, we miss the opportunity to celebrate our unique founding in America. We recall the stalwart faith of our pilgrim fathers, their gritty tenacity and sacrifice that made America possible. We remember that the first Thanksgiving among the pilgrims and their Indian friends was truly a celebration feast of thankfulness to God. They had survived their first year in this untamed wilderness and had a bountiful harvest. The providential provision of their friend Squanto made survival in this new land possible.
When we rush, we miss the quiet, mellow richness that November and the Thanksgiving holiday hold. I long for it these days. As a young girl, I sensed we were blessed in many ways, and we often spoke of it. In our cold church sanctuary and in the warmth of our home, we sang of it in hymns. We lifted our thanksgiving in prayers often, but also as we celebrated among family and friends on Thanksgiving Day. God’s goodness was evident on our laden kitchen table, and His blessings overflowed into the warmth of friendship and fellowship. Conversation and kidding bounced around the table. Someone spun the family yarns that morphed into the stuff of legends. Following our feast, card games and laughter lasted well into the evening.
It was Thanksgiving. No one uttered a word about Christmas. The Christmas decorations remained in their boxes in the basement, where they would stay for a few weeks. It was Thanksgiving, and it deserved to be celebrated and enjoyed for what it was. All we did was slow down and linger in the quiet, mellow richness of Thanksgiving and His presence.
As you gather with family and friends this week, I invite you to accept the invitation that November and the Thanksgiving holiday extend. Reflect upon His blessings. Speak of them, sing of them, and celebrate them in prayers of thankfulness. Celebrate Thanksgiving! May our Lord bless you richly as you celebrate His goodness.