Things are quiet at my house! My son’s family is visiting my daughter’s family at Oxford, and that makes a grand total of nine children and five adults all under one roof (my niece Brooke is visiting the Merkles as well). They will be celebrating Thanksgiving together and have invited a family from Australia to join them.
They were surprised last year to find out that the British (at least some of them) view our Thanksgiving as an anti-British holiday. That surprised us all. My daughter explained that it had nothing really to do with the British, but all to do with thanking God for His provision. But because the first to celebrate were English people who were leaving town for higher ground, I can see why it could be misunderstood. At any rate, my transplanted kids will be roasting a turkey and serving it up with all the trimmings, some of them carried over in a suitcase.
But here on this side of the ocean we are awaiting the arrival of our twin grandbabies. We will gather today around our table to celebrate the arrival of yet another Sabbath, and who knows? Maybe next Sabbath our twins will be here! Or, perhaps by the first Sabbath in December. Either way, the anticipation is growing.
We will gather to celebrate Thanksgiving with Doug’s brother Gordon and wife Meredith and the three cousins. (They are the parents of Brooke, who is visiting Oxford.) This is the first Thanksgiving in years that I haven’t had the honor of cooking the turkey and setting our table. But with the possibility of a birth taking place at any time in the next couple weeks, my sister-in-law invited us to be guests at her table this year. What a delight that will be!
And I am gearing up for Advent. I’ll be posting on some of our traditions at the Advent Sabbath Table. Since our Merkles were in Oxford last year, I packed little Sabbath bags of treats for the kids for every Sabbath they were gone (which turned out to be forty). I used little lunch bags and put all kinds of things in them, games, candy, glow sticks, any number of silly things. Since the Merkles ended up needing every bit of suitcase space possible, I sent my suitcase full of Sabbath treats over with some friends who were visiting.
This year I squeezed enough into their luggage to make it until the Wilsons were visiting, and sent more with them. Now I have another suitcase to go over next week, full of more Sabbath bags to get them to February when we go visit (as well as our Christmas gifts). On each bag I write the date and the number of the Sabbath. Once we reach the half-way mark, I start counting down until they come home.
So happy Sabbath to you all. It’s time to start looking forward to marking the birth of the King. But really, each and every Sabbath Feast is a celebration of His birth, His death, and His resurrection. So as we joyfully set our tables (whether it’s for six or twenty-six), let’s count our manifold blessings from His hand. It is so kind of God to give us, not only weekly celebrations, but the high feasts of Thanksgiving and Christmas.