Small offerings for a Thanksgiving gathering
Will it amount to warmth and welcome?
Will guests be pleased to join us here?
Candlelight and tidy home
Chocolates scattered in a bowl
Mulled cider with caramel
Comfort foods, casseroles
Many dishes yet to make
as I hustle here and there.
Background message fills the air
with tender story of the Provider.
I find myself jealous of the teller—
All that I’m doing for Thanksgiving Day
yet have I even stopped to praise?
I fear I’ve forgotten the Giver of all—
No tender story of late have I to treasure
I’m on the fringe, hanging back again.
But have I extended the Giver an invitation?
Have I forgotten the Guest of Honor?
A tentative, yet ravenous, request I raise:
Giver, would You come near and be our Guest?
Would You come to receive Thanksgiving praise?
And He does.
My breath catches as He whispers here:
Look to what your hands are doing . . .
Dicing bread for a savory dressing—
I’ve missed something . . . please explain?
Communion. My Body broken. Remember?
Yes! I remember.
Sacrifice and offering
Yielded will and surrender
Love poured out, forgiveness given
This is Thanksgiving Day.
This is the sacred Unexpected.