Saturday, November 21, 2009

Feeling Like a Fried Turkey?

Dear Saints in the Faith,

It's that happy time of year again when families argue over whose going where on what holiday and at what time. Grandma's too far away to visit, but she wouldn't leave her doctors anyway, not even for a free plane ticket. Uncle Brad is upset for hearing the truth a long time coming, Uncle Jeff wants to crawl into his usual cave of paranoia, and Uncle Rick could care less what happens to any of us as he has his wife and his mothern-in-law to care for. As one pundant said, "You can't pick your family, but you sure can pick your friends."

On this Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for my friends because they actually keep in touch with me and show they care. I'm invited over to a friend's home for this very family-oriented holiday. No more feeling like a fried turkey for me, no sir! I am going to have a blast even if the hostess doesn't stuff the turkey with Prozac to help things along. My part in all this is the mashed potatoes and the cranberry sauce. Wow, what a relief after decades of doing a huge dinner for my own family!

As it happens, I plan wearing my loosest jeans and sloppiest sweatshirt to make lots of room for food and good belly laughs, thus concealing midriff girth jiggling beneath loose clothing. When you're a guest, there are no worries. I can leave home with my bed unmade, my dirty breakfast dishes still in the sink, and the laundry half finished without a second thought. Ahhhh!

I imagine Mary's sister Martha, after she was scolded by the Master not to concern herself with the things of this world, feeling the weight of preparation taken off her shoulders, too. She could knock around in that first century kitchen with as much gusto or as little as she wanted, just so long as the meal eventually got served. People who were her guests didn't care. She probably kicked back on a kitchen stool and sipped a glass of wine before resuming her cooking. Maybe she even put a little of what she was consuming into the stew--who knew what she was tossing together? Maybe she had a food fight with a few of her maids and laughed herself silly?

Praise the Good Lord for laughter, it is such good medicine (Proverbs). I hope you laugh over at least one thing this Thanksgiving. Laugh because all you can afford is grilled cheese and tomato soup, laugh if you have to fast until Friday after Thanksgiving for your next check (turkey will be marked down along with all those thematic cakes and cookies), or laugh simply because God said it was good.

"Joy to the world, the Lord has come!" If he hasn't come to your home lately through laughter, let it deck the halls instead of holly.

Blessings and Agape as always,
L.B. Greer