Give Thanks
"And give thanks whatever happens. That is what God wants for you in
Christ Jesus." -1 Thessalonians 5:18.
Yes, you checked the date right; it's still smack dab at the end of September, and true, Thanksgiving really isn't until November. No, my calendar is not flipped to the wrong page; and yes, I do acknowledge that I posted my October Hallelujah Night alternative to Halloween at least a month earlier than the actual date, as well. (If you don't believe me, you can check the post right below.) Maybe I am a little off on my holidays, but I believe that every day is a designated to worship the Lord. Praise Him. Thank Him for those cell phones and iPods, drinking water and nutrition that we seem to take for granted. Thanksgiving is simply a set date in history to remind us, a sticky note set up by our forefathers to take the time out and thank the good Lord. And so what, those Pilgrims might not have even deserved the feast or even celebrated it originally? At least they got the picture.
Below is an excerpt from the novel I'm currently working to publish, Seeing Triple. It's told in first person by one of my main characters, Natalie Gray. It takes place on Thanksgiving night, and she's invited her friend, Nick Taylor, over for a family dinner. Hope you enjoy it!
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Thanks for reading everyone! Stay tuned for more Sneak Peeks and Summaries of the novel. Again, I cannot thank you enough for all your countless views and constant support. (Only a hundred more views and we reach a thousand. C'mon guys, we can do this!) Well, hope you liked the lil' preview and hope you all have an amazing, blessing showered, cheers Thanksgiving, wherever you are and however you celebrate it, Turkey or not. God bless and shine on, my stars!
Blessings,
Karisa
So. You got the Turkey.
Turkey with a capital T because it seems to rise with the connotation of this celebrated holiday in America. Besides, you have to give the animal some credit; it did almost make the national bird according to Benjamin Franklin. Then you got the stuffing, mashed potatoes (my personal favorite), cranberry sauce, corn (maybe a loaf of corn bread), and that spicy slice of good ol' Pumpkin pie. It's the all-American, family tradition that society's seemed to paste on to every cheesy Mayflower story and heart warming movie. You got the kids all lined up for their first grade parade, stiff little cardboard Pilgrim caps and floppy Indians feathers flocking along, all to enhance the grand "Hello Mr. Turkey" that is about to be sung. Then you got the real Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, as citizens everywhere stop and marvel at the titanic, floating Snoopy. He finally fulfilled his dream to fly.
The thing is, is that regardless of our "thanking Him or not", He continues to cloak us in blessings. He's faithful when we're faithless, hopeful to the hopeless. I praise and thank the Lord that he continues to accept and take me in, often when my attitude reflects the dirty things in my life. I am so thankful that the Lord is a detail-oriented, time controlling, all knowing God who loves me so dearly and ever consistently. His love endures forever.
Praise Him for that.
Natalie
November
24, Thursday
Kitchen
Give
Thanks
I slide in the last tray of stuffing to bake before
checking the oven timer. At least enough
time to catch up on Orlando Bloom’s family vacation pics. I peek a glance
at Mom’s cranberry sauce and famous turkey. Looking
delish. I give the mashed potatoes one last stir then slide onto the couch
with US Weekly in my hands.
“Do you smell that?” Aubrey walks into the living room
while I’m submerged in the picture pages.
“No.” Ooh, but
Miranda Kerr does have a cute bag.
Aubrey crinkles her nose. “I think something is
burning.”
“My stuffing!” I throw the magazine in the air,
rushing to pull it out of the oven. Too
late- the stuffing is burnt. Black like Zayn Malik’s hair.
“I am sure it just singed the outside,” Aubrey comes
over to inspect, “it is probably still delicious.”
The doorbell rings. Nick Taylor couldn’t have chosen a worse time to arrive. Did I really
say 5? I’m positive I said 6.
“Aubrey, will you let him in? I have my hands full,” I
stick a fork into the stuffing then try to pry it out of the burned rock bread.
“You must be Nick,” Aubrey’s voice travels over from
the foyer. “I’m Aubrey.”
I grimace as I pull out a charcoal black bread,
otherwise known as stuffing. I’ve never
burnt this before, especially not on Thanksgiving. What’s into me? How long was
I reading US Weekly?
Nick comes into the kitchen, and I give an inner
groan. I look like a mess.
“You look nice,” he smiles and hands me a small
bouquet of colorfully assorted flowers. “For your family.”
“Aw, thanks, Nick. These are beautiful.” I put the flowers
to my nose and take a whiff before finding a glass vase. I set the vase of
flowers in the middle of the dining room table. “You look nice, too.” I take in
his black dress shirt and pants, and then wipe my greasy hands on my stained
apron, fully aware that my hair is sticking out in nine places.
“Did I really tell you five?” I ask him as I slide the
green beans into a crystal bowl.
“Yeah. Here,” he takes the bowl from my hands.
I let him take over the greens and move onto the
salad. “Sorry, my parents would be here to meet you, but they had to go help a
neighbor with something.”
As if by perfect timing, Aubrey strides into the room,
grabbing the salad tongs from my hands. “You go on ahead and get ready,” she
smiles at me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am sure. We have this all under control.”
Nick chuckles from the side, where he’s moved onto
fixing up the cranberry sauce.
“Do you cook? Or are you just a natural in the
kitchen?” I wash my hands in the kitchen sink then peel off my apron, hanging
it in the closet.
Nick smiles as he cranks open a Campbell’s Cream of
Chicken. “When your mom’s gone half the nights, a guy’s gotta learn to make his
own can of soup.”
I chuckle to myself later, as I slide on my favorite
black dress. Nick cooks- why doesn’t that
surprise me? I slip on my silver hoops and fasten my cross necklace in
place. I add a touch of makeup and spray myself with a whiff of perfume before
descending the stairs.
In the kitchen, Mom, Aubrey, and Madi are putting
together the last of the dishes. Madi’s hair is curled, and she’s wearing a
turquoise dress with makeup. So is Aubrey, but hers is midnight blue.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom gives me a kiss on the cheek,
handing me the corn and Madi the rolls. “Nick’s talking to your father in the
dining room.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind that I invited him,
right?” I give her a last glance, as she closes the oven and stuffs her mitts
in the drawer.
“Of course not.” She smiles at me, and she looks
beautiful in her maroon dress. “It was very sweet of you.”
The four of us carry the last of the dishes into the
dining room, placing them on the table. Coco dashes over, and I almost trip
over her.
Nick reaches down a hand and rubs behind her ears. She
rolls over and wags her tail, happily. Even
my own dog likes him. Ugh, so unfair.
“What beautiful young ladies I have!” Dad places a
kiss on Mom’s cheek as she sets the potatoes down on the table.
I look over at Nick, who has a different expression on
his face. “Wow, you look, uh, you look great.”
I feel my cheeks tinge. “Thanks, Nick.”
He stands there for a moment, before sliding out my
chair for me. I sit down, and he moves into the one on my left.
“Our first holiday celebrated in the new home,” Dad
looks around at us with smiles, once we’re all seated. “Nick, do you mind if I
say grace?”
“Dad,” Madi rolls her eyes from across the table. “He
goes to our church.”
“Do you, now? How long have you been attending?”
“Three years, sir.”
“That’s wonderful,” Dad says. “Let’s join hands.”
Nick reaches out his hand, and I look at it for a
second before taking it. He curls his fingers around mine, and I hear his
compliment ringing in my head.
“Heavenly Father, thank you for this wonderful meal
that you have provided us through the hands of these four very hardworking
women. I thank you also for our new home in Cape Cod and the opportunities you
have given our family here. Thank you for your great love and mercy, that we
can remember you on a day like today, as we share this meal with our family. We
thank you for the friends and neighbors that you have so graciously given us
here in our community. I pray for those who are not with us, our friends and
family in California and Minnesota, and that you’ll bless and be with them. I
pray for the strength and unity of our family, that we can keep our family
together, as always. I pray that this meal will nourish our bodies, and I also
pray for continued years of blessing in our new home. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
I scoop a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my plate,
handing it onto Nick.
“You have family in Minnesota?”
“My mom’s side,” I explain.
“So Bre,” Madi grabs a roll from the bread basket,
“you excited for tomorrow? One day left!”
Aubrey beams. “Technically I will not be in Santa
Barbara; however, Dad says we might be able to make a stop by before rounding
back home.” She looks at Madi and me. “And I will make sure to say hi to
everyone.”
“Bring me back a cupcake,” I say, and the two of us
share a smile.
We pass the dishes around the table, and Mom converses
with Nick, asking him about such and such
this, such and such that.
After everyone’s served, Dad taps a small metal spoon
against his glass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he holds up his crystal glass of
sparkling apple cider, and we all do the same. “To our Father who has provided
this meal, to our new lives in Massachusetts, and to our guest, Nick Taylor,
who we are blessed to have join us.”
“To Madi,” Aubrey adds, “for enduring one of our
greatest hardships, yet keeping strength throughout it.”
“To Aubrey,” Mom smiles, “May she have a safe and
blessed time on her trip back to California.” She reaches over and squeezes
Bre’s arm.
“To Natalie,” Madi grins, her glass bubbling, “for
uh…uh…”
We all turn to look at her. Oh, come on! She can’t think of one good thing?
“For her wonderful smile and personality,” Nick steps
into the conversation, and I can feel his eyes on me, as they’ve been all
evening.
“I was actually going to say for being able to pull
off purple,” Madi gives a goofy grin, “but thanks.”
“To your father,” Mom holds up her glass, “although we
have been through some difficult times, he has been willing to keep this family
together.”
“To our momma,” I hold my glass high, wrapping up the
cheesiness, “for being the heart of our family.”
“To the Gray Family,” Nick smiles at me, “God bless
them as they’ve blessed others here in Cape Cod.”
“To the ones in our lives, the ones present and the
ones unable to join us,” Dad finishes. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
And we knock glasses.
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