As for me and my house, we will keep the pilgrim and his pilgrim wife standing humbly thankful on the bookcase for a few more days. We will keep the welcome wreath garlanded with the hues of autumn and the harvest before changing out the berries and sprays for the red glitz of Christmas. We will keep the pumpkin at center table surrounded by gold flickering votives, and the quilted turkey standing watch from atop the china hutch.
We will do this partly because the colors of Thanksgiving feed my soul more than the starker colors of Christmas. But more, we will do this because I need every golden, warm reminder to be thankful. ‘Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,’ wrote the hymnist. And he was understating the facts. Though flooded with grace, I find small pockets of discontent and breathe that air for long stretches before coming back to myself, before saying, ‘Soul, what are you thinking?!?’
Gold and brown and green and orange.
Colors of Thanksgiving. I will paint my soul with these colors today.
Amen!
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