Thanksgiving

I have a great deal to be thankful for, I know this. I have found the love of my life, we have a beautiful home that is just the right size, a fantastic family, food, fun, and furry little friends. Thanksgiving was a bit different this year -- we were going to have a whole ton of people from Florida, Georgia, and Wisconsin, but in the end, everyone bailed and there were just nine of us. It was wonderful, don't get me wrong, just different than usual because there are normally between 15-20 people here for the holiday.

Our oldest son had to work, and then opted to go to his grandparents' house afterward instead of to our home for Thanksgiving. His choice, of course. He will be nineteen in a few days. But I certainly missed him. This is a very strong struggle for me. I know he wants to be independent. He has shown that in almost every way conceivable over the past year, at times to the detriment of our relationship. There's something that resides within a parent, however, that just yanks your heart back and forth like a tornado when they're this age. The only thing I want is for him to know how much we love him. I'm not sure that he's ever understood that, or ever will. Maybe someday if he becomes a father, it will be crystal clear. It's all I can pray for at this point.

We had a good time, however. Watching football, eating too much, playing poker and Catch Phrase, and visiting with family. Apparently, surreptitiously hiding clown stickers around my house was a pre-decided past-time as well. Thus far, I've found 13. Once my family fessed up, I was told that I had many more to find. One was above my bed. ABOVE MY SIDE OF THE BED! STARING DOWN AT ME! Have I mentioned I greatly dislike clowns? Gotta love 'em! (The fam, that is -- definitely NOT clowns!)

My cousin (adopted sister) is back from South Korea and we have her until December 9th, when the Army removes her from our grip once again. It's bittersweet. She, also, is more than old enough to make her own decisions, and it's so hard to watch her leave, knowing it will be so long until we see her again, and she'll be so far away. We love and pray for her every day, though, and know that God is watching over her way better than we ever could.

Work is a struggle as well. We've had a bad few weeks, financially, and every day just looks more bleak than the last. I know that God will provide. I'm not living in fear of how we will be supported, I just dread the tension that comes with each passing day. I awaken wishing I could stay in bed another half hour, two hours, another day, or week. I feel strongly that there is something else that I'm supposed to be doing, but I haven't found the guts to follow my gut.

Now it's time for Christmas music. I usually hold back until the day after Thanksgiving. My husband has an entire MP3 player dedicated solely to Christmas music, and I saw it charging up today, so I know what tomorrow holds. I'm okay with that. Christmas is a time for joy, celebration, for remembering the Greatest Gift of all, and I'm most certainly ready for that. Whether or not I still have a job next week, whether or not my son recognizes my love for him, whether or not I become a 'real' writer -- I am a child of God. I am precious in His sight. I have great love for some, and some love for all.

What more could possibly matter?

Stephanie Jean