Thirty-three years ago, I traveled to San Antonio to celebrate my first Thanksgiving away from my family. The attraction? Fort Sam Houston and a young PFC named Lisa who was three weeks shy of a name change for her and a life change for both of us. We made it to Galveston, Texas where we saw the sea waves crashing and ate our fill at the Holiday Inn’s all-you-could-eat buffet. Put it on my dad’s credit card, not thinking he might want an explanation of a pre-nuptial hotel charge. I suppose Shoney’s would have required less explanation. Up to that day, I had never celebrated a Thanksgiving Day marked by so much – love, hope, joy, and anticipation – and so little – money, certainty, security, and peace. Looking back, the balancing act between hope and fear, abundance and lack, joy and anxiety could not have been more stark. That tension, held in tow by large amounts of love, wonder, and trust in God and each other, proved thank-worthy in and of itself. Still does. Three-plus decades, two sons, three grandgirls, seven churches, and four states later, we are abundantly blessed and thankful. We just have different things to be concerned about and new blurry futures waiting to find focus.
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