We were scheduled to spend this Thanksgiving out in the country and I was so excited. It would have been the first time, in nearly 10 years, that my sweet husband would have been giving thanks with his family. Truck loaded with luggage, groceries, three kiddos, and three dogs, we headed out to spend six wonderful days with family.
Then I got sick. Not only did I get sick, I got COVID. Three days before Thanksgiving. I cried.
As sad as I was to have been exposed to this virus, I was in the perfect place to spend my isolation. A charming little farmhouse, over looking 100 acres. Every morning I met the sunrise, with a cup of coffee that I couldn’t taste, my bible and journal. I spent the first few moments giving thanks for the day in front of me and for the opportunity to rest.
The more time I spend out there, the more my soul craves that style of living.
And while my family was out and about hunting or exploring, I used my energy to bake and cook and prepare some of my favorite Thanksgiving dishes for my husband to share with his family. Putting together my momma and grandmother’s traditional dressing was a little challenging with no taste and no smell ;). But it brought back so many memories of Thanksgivings past and watching my mom and her mother work their magic in the kitchen, dressed in their new outfits, Macy’s Parade playing on the TV, and us kids greeting the aunts and uncles as they began arriving with pies and side dishes and hugs and kisses for everyone.
Although I didn’t get to cook alongside anyone or even sit at the table with my family, it was still a Thanksgiving to remember. And one that will always remind me of just how much we have to be thankful for.
The broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts. – Acts 2:48