Here and Now (Newsletter)

         Looking back, most of my growing-up Thanksgivings seemed pretty much the same. There was, however, the time that Dad’s schedule forced us, at the last moment, to cancel our usual trip to Montgomery, AL. We stayed in Augusta. Mom broiled some steak. I’m not complaining about steak, but we missed Grandmother’s turkey and dressing, her mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans (with fatback), apple pie, and poppy seed cake.

We didn’t get to go feral with our Montgomery cousins, either. We didn’t climb the sprawling pecan tree in my grandparents’ back yard. We didn’t step back in time by sifting through treasures in Granddaddy’s shed – his old Black&Decker electric mowers, thumb-pump oil cans, ancient leather gloves coarse and stiff as tree bark, and wooden tool boxes with handles smoother than the armrests of his rocking chair.

Our family Thanksgivings have changed significantly in recent years. I give thanks for change, though. Nostalgia tends to gloss over the painful realities of yesteryear. It would have us judge the past as idyllic and the future as hellish nightmare. Either way we fall into despair, and despair prevents us from engaging the Here and Now with gratitude and Love. And Here and Now is where creation-relevant human beings inhabit the Kingdom of God.

It seems to me that a truly memorable Thanksgiving involves acknowledging that we live, and move, and have our being in the relentless progress of time. Our lives become touchstones of a past we can only interpret and a future we can only imagine. To live gratefully and hopefully, we live Here and Now, generously present to each other, and fully aware of the world in all of its withering anguish and restoring beauty.

So give thanks. And may you find reason to live gratefully and hopefully each day of your precious, gifted, fleeting lives.

Peace,

         Allen

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

Before the mountains were brought forth,

or ever you had formed the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past.

         You sweep them away;

         they are like a dream,

         like grass that is renewed in the morning;

         in the morning it flourishes and is renewed;

         in the evening it fades and withers.

The days of our life are seventy years,

or perhaps eighty,

if we are strong;

So teach us to count our days that we may gain a wise heart.

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,

so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.

                           (Psalm 90 Selected Verses)