Stepping into the Light

Holidays are less and less enjoyable to me as I get older, perhaps because so many such as Christmas, Easter, and Halloween seem based on something other than what’s been hyped to generations of children and really have little to legitimately recommend them, in my under-romantic view. But Thanksgiving has no ancient hidden roots and is simply an American-invented holiday to give thanks to God for His mercy and provision. That resonates with me not just on the fourth Thursday of November, but every day of my life.

Tomorrow we in the U.S. will celebrate Thanksgiving with food and gratitude, giving and food, family, football and more food, along with important reflections on why we should be grateful.

I’m grateful for too many things to list at once, so this post will focus on my gratitude for my family. I love all my relatives, but relish regaling you with a special mention of my favorite five:

Dad

I know most people start with the mom when thanks are being doled out, but I believe the father is the rock on which every family needs to be built whether it works out that way or not. Fortunately for me, my father, Martin, is a rock of dependability and integrity who influenced us all for the good and still does at the finely mellowed yet still feisty age of 86. I’m most grateful to Dad for the love of reading he established in me. The sound of Dad’s voice still makes me nostalgic for Grimm’s Fairy Tales at bedtime or irony out of The New Yorker Magazine or New York Times shared aloud at dinnertime.

Mom

Lena Horne, Della Reese, Erma Bombeck, and Mary Poppins rolled into one is the closest combination I can come up with to help you imagine Dorothy, my Mom. Growing up under her constantly fluttering wings was a riot and a half. No wonder I woke up laughing so often as a child. She was a diva-licious, jazz-singing, piano-banging, down on the floor with the kids, never met a stranger, quick to giggle hoot. She still is—at an age considerably younger than Dad’s, but which I will not mention nevertheless. I’m most grateful to Mom for teaching me to "never get old for anyone."

Husband

How blessed can one woman be? After the pain of losing my first husband and best friend of twenty-five years to cancer in 2003, God gave me a new best friend and soul mate, the man of God I had prayed for, my favorite preacher, Benjamin W. Harris, Jr. So full of sunshine, street-wisdom, spiritual insight, and silliness, so wrapped in the armor of God, my husband is my hard-working hero and my mentor. As if that were not enough, he’s brought me into the lives of his two amazing young sons; the joy of watching them grow into amazing young men is worth any price of admission.

Brothers

Being an older sister to three boys created in me a combination of tenderness toward men with a lack of illusions about their superpowers. This doesn’t negate the fact that my brothers are super men (not Supermen, but men who are just grand), each in his own endearing way. I share the blood of three gentleman geniuses and the bragging rights. I’ve known David, Nelson, and Stephen since birth and though we’ve been pulled away from each other’s attention from time to time, our relationships are blessedly permanent, something not assured by mere friendship.

Sisters

Though my parents never had another daughter but me, God has granted me the gift of sisterhood through several remarkable women who I love dearly.

Thirty years ago my late husband Jae introduced me to Kim and Pearl, his blood sisters. Since his passing in 2003 we’ve become not just sisters but sisters in Christ, sharing heartache, joy, and an affection that is beyond anything I could have hoped for if we’d shared a bloodline as well.

The one and only friend from my carefree college days, Ruthanne lives with her husband and two beautiful daughters in Israel, so we only see each other every few years. When we spent a few days together in Florida last year, our joy in each other's presence was so obvious that we were mistaken for reunited lesbian "college sweethearts" by one moist-eyed female storekeeper.

Through my first job in Nashville I met Pam and Jackie, who taught me the beauty of sisterhood outside of family ties. No matter how infrequently we see or hear from each other, these two strong and inspiring ladies will always be in my heart.

Could I do without Carole who keeps me laughing and who bound me to her forever when, immediately after hearing my trial sermon, she made me promise to preach at her funeral. I met Carole through my dear T (short for Terry) who, through example, has taught me more about generosity than anyone I know.

Because of my husband Benjamin I gained five beautiful sisters-in-law almost five years ago. Janice and Vanessa especially have blessed me with their kindness, wit, availability, spirituality, and ability to laugh in the face of anything. My "until death do us part" vows to their brother includes these sister-friends as well.

Reading over this list of loved ones, I’m even more ready to celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow than I was when I started writing. My appreciation for all of them grows more and more as I get older. My appreciation for the God who allows me to know these people increases too. Our God is an awesome God and even if I didn’t have any of the folk mentioned above, I’d have everything I need because I have Him in my heart. I know I am loved with no beginning and no ending, no top and no bottom. He knows everything about me and still He loves me with no strings attached.

Tomorrow we in the U.S. will officially celebrate Thanksgiving, but our Thanksgiving should be shared with grateful people all over the world. Make a list of what (or who) you have to be thankful for. You’ll be grateful you did.