The hands of the clock are approaching midnight, a rare late night for this girl. A cat is curled at my side. A snoring dog sprawls on easy chair; another sleeps on the floor upstairs next to her girl. The howling wind is bringing the temperature down and snow will follow later tonight.
And I am blessed.
The roof is secure, the windows keep out the draft. A crackling fire in the fireplace would be the perfect capstone to this chilly night. If I had a fireplace.
The turkey and ham are in the freezer, waiting to be prepared for Thanksgiving dinner. They are a little small this year, so guests may get to sample some bear meat—possibly smoked—along with the traditional Thanksgiving foods. Most of the meal's ingredients are already in the cupboard, the freezer or pantry, waiting to be shared with family.
And I am blessed.
There is hay and feed for the winter. The sheep are healthy. The next generation of livestock is in the works and hopefully there will be a new crop of lambs in the spring.
There is a blind set up and waiting for my arrival on opening morning of deer season. It isn't as much about the hunt as it is about enjoying nature as it wakes into a new day, the craftsmanship of God's hand. It is about sharing the experience with family members, doing it together, cheering each other along. Day two of hunting season will be spent with my son, waiting for appropriate-sized venison to come within range. I hope this tradition goes on for a long, long time.
And I am thankful.
Between hammering out words on the keyboard and sipping hot tea, I converse with friends through text mail—one a perpetual night owl, the other, two time zones away. There is always news to share, many prayers requested, secrets shared, laughter and most of all, love.
The road to the end of the year and that time of Thanksgiving has been bumpy this year. Frankly, bumpy is an understatement. It's had some downright mean and treacherous potholes. That little "health hiccup" last June that my husband had which took him out for the summer? It was the widow-maker waiting to happen; luckily caught before it happened. A relative with an incredible mind ended his own life. His research in the medical field might have led to significant advances in the treatment of childhood epilepsy. His family will reel from this for a very long time. Another friend lost a sister to suicide. My brother and I find ourselves dealing with a parent with dementia. It wasn't like it showed up like opening a door and entering a room. It kind of snuck in under, over and around the gaps in the door jam, like the smell of some rank manure spread on a humid day. When the door finally opened all the way, you realize the mess was bigger than you had any idea.
And yet, I am thankful.
I have much to be grateful for—children who love their Lord, a home, unbelievably wonderful friends, a purpose in life, the gift of being able to admire and appreciate God's creation surrounding me, but most of all the gift of His Love.
I hope you have a peaceful Thanksgiving and even amidst turbulent times and low market prices, that you can find thankfulness and peace during this Thanksgiving season.
Bev Berens is a mom to 4-H and FFA members in Michigan. Do you have a story to share? Email her at uphillfarm494@yahoo.com.