The Interruption of Thanksgiving
I would rather go on my grumpy way, most days. I hate to admit it. But seeing the world as a to-do list, annoying and pressuring, is much more natural some days than seeing it as a gift to be opened carefully, thoughtfully, joyfully. I confess I am an ingrate who has been given more than she deserves, loved with a love that I never earned. I have every reason to be thankful every moment.
Maybe I am the only one for whom thanksgiving is a learned, intentional behavior. Busyness blinds me to what matters all too often.
One day I woke up an hour before the rest of the family to a house so inky dark I could not see my hand in front of my face. My husband mumbled from the cozy mountain of warm blankets, “What are you doing up so early?”
“I have a lot to do today,” I replied.
I had gone to sleep the night before mentally running down my list of things I had to accomplish the next day, dreamed about doing them all night long, and jumped out of bed at the first alarm so I could get a head start. An hour and a half later, I was well on my way at the speed of Wonder Woman on her way to save New York City.
I took a detour to go into my son’s room to wake him up. Noticing his absence at the breakfast table, I peeked into his room. The odor of stinky, nighttime boy breath almost knocked me over. I just cannot seem to make that boy room smell fresh, no matter what I do.
There he was, a dark lump under his covers, still asleep, unmoving. I leaned over and gleefully squeezed him tight in a big hug. During waking hours, I am seldom allowed this luxury. Apparently one of the rules of high school is Never Let Your Mother Hug or Kiss You. But he is so lovable! And so big now. So he was asleep, and I took advantage of the moment. Huuugg.
That was when my superhero flight was interrupted.
“Hug me longer,” a small, muffled voice said from under the covers.
“What?” I asked, incredulous, thinking maybe he really said, “Go away!”
“Hug me longer,” he insisted.
Whatever urgent tasks I thought were driving me to a frenzy moments before had immediately been interrupted and rendered absolutely non-essential.
I was hugging my son, and my heart was flooding its banks with joy and deep satisfaction in what Really Matters. A fireworks display of thanksgiving lit up my face and I squeezed long and tight.
Less than a minute later (oh how my heart thought it was longer!) he let me know that the Moment was over. Normal returned, and the high schooler jumped out of bed and started his day.
But Wonder Woman laid aside her Lasso of Truth for a good long moment and reflected on the real Truth behind this interruption to her frenzied morning focus.
I confess, I like it when my husband jokingly calls me Wonder Woman. We women have a tremendous amount to accomplish on any given day. It would seem we do need superhuman strength to make it all happen.
But this holiday season, I propose Wonder Woman takes up a new weapon in her arsenal: the interruption of Thanksgiving.
I can attest to the renewed strength, clearer focus, and greater peace I felt after I stopped for it this morning. It was worth the detour.
Several times throughout the day, just thinking back to that small, muffled voice filled me again with power and love to face whatever busy task I was presently tackling.
Thanksgiving renews our strength and focus.
Are you feeling overwhelmed by the race of life today? It is my prayer for you that you notice the interruptions that might just be opportunities for thanksgiving in disguise. If you have been interrupted by thanksgiving lately, share your story!
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