Giving thanks - November 15:: A Time To Remember

I'm so thankful for this book and it's telling of the Pilgrim's true story. I got to share parts of it with my daughter's advisement class twice in the last two weeks. (I'm thankful for that too.) Through the book I'm reminded that it's impossible to be grateful and resentful at the same time.

I'm choosing the grace of gratitude.

Giving thanks -- November 14:: The Keenager Luncheon

Another sweet outgrowth of my mom's broken arm and recovery is that I get to be the designated driver. As such I was invited yesterday to her senior group's Thanksgiving luncheon at church. It was fun and certainly yummy.  Chicken and ambrosia salad and a beautiful ice cream Napolean for dessert.

There was lots of good conversation and coffee and then the sharing of Thanksgiving thoughts. The group, mostly women, had converged to celebrate the holiday but also to say goodbye to one of our younger pastors. He feels called to leave our church and to plant a church in an area of the city where there is no vibrant church, in the less-than-vibrant part of town. So, he's leaving without much more than direction to go. No house, no building, just go.

There was lots of honoring and love and encouragement all around. And for me, an observation: I'm so grateful to be in the midst of people who can be pained by another's decision and still provide support and love and grace.

Oh yes, I am grateful.

Giving Thanks - November 13:: a best friend

I often say thank you to our friend and dog walker, Mary Ellen. (That's her dog, Scout, on the left and my guy on the right.) One day, while walking with Max, Mary Ellen wondered if he might be up for meeting her Scout. (We carefully joke that he's a miniature short-haired St. Bernard. More likely a pit and boxer mix, well-mixed with grace and calm.) She carefully worked out the idea of them meeting, the where, the when and executed her plan. An immediate friendship began and now, they qualify as best friends.

Max has the occasional overnight stay at Scout's when we travel. They walk a few days a week and when they've been separated for a weekend the initial returning greeting is loud and sweet. There are kisses and whines and bounding joy. Especially from the big dog. Scout is a bit more stoic in his nature.

When the walk is through, Mary Ellen always gives the dogs one of Max's treats. This is fine by Max, especially because Scout doesn't quite care for our treats. He takes his anyway and finds a place to leave it for Max -- near his bed or under our dining room table (Max's condo).

Scout had a rough patch a while back and needed surgery and recovery time. Max still walked, but his days were clearly missing something. You have to wonder if a dog's longing of the heart isn't much like ours. That insatiable yearning just to have the other near. There was a distinct quietness in our homecoming receptions each day during this time.

Then Scout returned. Max bobbed and danced with joy "telling" us about the reunion. My daughter thought he would have made a banner, if he had the thumbs. All of life fell happily back into place.

And this is where I'm reminded to be oh-so-grateful, for the friendship. The one between dog and man and also dog and dog. It reminds me of how we were created, for community, communion, and oneness with the other. Be it God, man or a poochy.