Lesson in Thankfulness -1

We had moved to our new overseas duty station approximately 6 months ago. In that time, Keith had been deployed twice, my grandmother began her rapid decline in health while my mom was visiting us, I had made 3 trips across the ocean with 2 girls ages 3 and under, I had made a trip to the ER for stitches due to a home improvement project gone wrong… while Keith was on the first deployment… and had to undergo the questioning looks and concerns from strangers who thought I was depressed, not just clumsy, I was still in culture shock trying to figure out WHY exactly we were here, and I was convinced I could simply “hold my breath” until our 2 years were up. 

As it got closer to Thanksgiving I knew I needed a little “taste of home” and decided to join some friends for a feast at The Lighthouse (a hospitality house run by Cadence International missionaries). 

My Thanksgiving traditions included a midday meal, lots of football, and cozy clothes. The meal that year was in the evening, had NO football, and we were supposed to wear Sunday clothes. 

So, my attitude was a little skewed to begin with, but I was going… I wanted to do something special with the girls. Besides, I needed an attitude adjustment and I hoped that being around people would help me with that. 

The people there were all great… and there were A LOT of people. It was a potluck with all the traditional foods as well as some local favorites. The thing about potlucks involving people from ALL over the US, Australia, and Japan… there’s going to be some foods you never considered to be “Thanksgiving” foods. 

As I surveyed the spread, I found all the “safe” foods that I recognized and thought the girls would eat. I piled all the plates high with turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, rolls, and made it to the sweet potato casserole section. There was only one problem… underneath the layer of melted marshmallows, the casserole was PURPLE. PURPLE SWEET POTATOES?!?!?! I managed to hold it together and not let my face show the bewilderment swirling inside me. And, I even ate everything I had put on my plate. But I was not the least bit thankful. This was the worst Thanksgiving I had had in a LONG time. I made it through the meal, gathered up the girls for the 30 minute drive home, and dreaded what tomorrow would hold after keeping them up 2 hours past their bedtime. 

I was miserable in a foreign land, without my husband, without the comforts of home, without my friends, and now without what I so desperately wanted… a brief moment of “normal” in the midst of a completely foreign culture.

I just kept thinking… I can hold my breath until we get out of here… little did I know what God had planned next for our family of 4. 

He was growing me and stretching me in ways I didn’t understand (or like). He was stripping away all that was familiar. He was taking away all my safety nets and comforts that I held onto so tightly. He was teaching me where to put my hope, and that I was actually not strong enough to do it on my own. He was showing me I needed to cling to him.

The problem was, I wasn’t in the mood for a lesson.