Reconnaissant et Impliqué
There is a certain electricity in a room when all but one person knows a secret.
I knew that we were going to celebrate Thanksgiving together and I was determined to make my mom's corn pudding for my host family. Because Belgium knows little about--let alone celebrates--Thanksgiving, I didn't get the chance to start cooking until after school that day. When I arrived home, Papa had decorated the dining room with a beautiful fall spread, complete with candles, centerpieces, and folded serviettes. Maman had left to use the church's oven, as ours is not big enough for a turkey. So I was told.
"Est-ce que on a encore du maïs?" I sent my text message, suppressing frustration because I had asked earlier and later reminded Maman to buy corn the last time she went shopping. Instead, we had two small cans of corn--not nearly enough for my corn pudding. Tenaciously, I changed plans. I would make creamed corn instead. After I finished a mash that tasted much better than it looked, we went to pick up Maman from the church. It did seem strange to me that it required five of us to carry one turkey, but I chalked it up to Belgium's strong familial culture. When we arrived, I assumed that the parking was unusually full because there was an event inside. I believed there was a prayer meeting happing when I walked into the assembly hall filled with over twenty people standing in a semi-circle. They stared at me. So did Papa. I glanced away. Between us, a grand table set with harvest décor filled the space. Sentimental Thanksgiving music played. And why were there American flags on the walls?
A huge grin broke my confused visage and I laughed to release the surprise and happiness that had suddenly welled up. Most of the church had gathered to surprise me with a Thanksgiving dinner! People had pitched in to bring food, some making pumpkin pie or sweet potatoes for the first time. Maman had been there all day, cooking corn pudding, cauliflower purée, and of course, the turkey. To add to it all, Maman and Papa had spent a whole morning and another afternoon going from store to store searching for this dinde, as turkeys are not usually available until December for les Belges.
Do I deserve this family? Do I merit this hospitality? Certainly not. It is something unbelievable.
We feasted, laughed, and danced late into the night, indifferent to the early morning that work and school would require the next day. Among all the bustle and laughter, there was a silent, two-part undercurrent. Each person determines the quality of his or her Thanksgiving. First, the meaning of Thanksgiving is obvious and ignored. Simply, it is to thank God for what we have. This is a matter of a real relationship with God and true contentment that comes about by the following, second aspect. Continuing the idea of a current, the heartfelt thankfulness must flow into Thanksgiving and out the other side. Are we thankful in August and September? In December during the holidays?
How has God spoiled you today?
In closing, I add this final thought: when Abraham Lincoln made Thanksgiving an official holiday, he asked Americans, "to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father." Then, he changed course: "And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him [...] they do also [...] fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it [...] to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union."
Living in Belgium has made me a more global citizen, meaning that I view country lines as man-made divisions, and also made me more American, meaning I know that the best way to serve our world is to focus first on our birth-turf. Your country is a great gift. Without needing to dive into political discussion, I can say that America, Belgium, and the world are at a crossroads. The America that I will hand to my children will be drastically different from America today. As a citizen to another citizen, I ask you to recognize your privileged duty to implore that God "heal the wounds of the nation," and to give it "the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union." If we try to heal the wounds of a country without Him, we have kicked the doctor out and are attempting self-surgery.
We can change our country for the better. (When I say "our country", I do not solely speak of the USA.) God promises: "If [...] my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health."**
I'm investing in our country's future. Will you? Influence our government. Seek God. Pray.
--Soren
*http://www.abrahamlincolnonline.org/lincoln/speeches/thanks.htm
** 2 Chronicles 2:13-15, The Message
I knew that we were going to celebrate Thanksgiving together and I was determined to make my mom's corn pudding for my host family. Because Belgium knows little about--let alone celebrates--Thanksgiving, I didn't get the chance to start cooking until after school that day. When I arrived home, Papa had decorated the dining room with a beautiful fall spread, complete with candles, centerpieces, and folded serviettes. Maman had left to use the church's oven, as ours is not big enough for a turkey. So I was told.
"Est-ce que on a encore du maïs?" I sent my text message, suppressing frustration because I had asked earlier and later reminded Maman to buy corn the last time she went shopping. Instead, we had two small cans of corn--not nearly enough for my corn pudding. Tenaciously, I changed plans. I would make creamed corn instead. After I finished a mash that tasted much better than it looked, we went to pick up Maman from the church. It did seem strange to me that it required five of us to carry one turkey, but I chalked it up to Belgium's strong familial culture. When we arrived, I assumed that the parking was unusually full because there was an event inside. I believed there was a prayer meeting happing when I walked into the assembly hall filled with over twenty people standing in a semi-circle. They stared at me. So did Papa. I glanced away. Between us, a grand table set with harvest décor filled the space. Sentimental Thanksgiving music played. And why were there American flags on the walls?
A huge grin broke my confused visage and I laughed to release the surprise and happiness that had suddenly welled up. Most of the church had gathered to surprise me with a Thanksgiving dinner! People had pitched in to bring food, some making pumpkin pie or sweet potatoes for the first time. Maman had been there all day, cooking corn pudding, cauliflower purée, and of course, the turkey. To add to it all, Maman and Papa had spent a whole morning and another afternoon going from store to store searching for this dinde, as turkeys are not usually available until December for les Belges.
Do I deserve this family? Do I merit this hospitality? Certainly not. It is something unbelievable.
We feasted, laughed, and danced late into the night, indifferent to the early morning that work and school would require the next day. Among all the bustle and laughter, there was a silent, two-part undercurrent. Each person determines the quality of his or her Thanksgiving. First, the meaning of Thanksgiving is obvious and ignored. Simply, it is to thank God for what we have. This is a matter of a real relationship with God and true contentment that comes about by the following, second aspect. Continuing the idea of a current, the heartfelt thankfulness must flow into Thanksgiving and out the other side. Are we thankful in August and September? In December during the holidays?
How has God spoiled you today?
In closing, I add this final thought: when Abraham Lincoln made Thanksgiving an official holiday, he asked Americans, "to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father." Then, he changed course: "And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him [...] they do also [...] fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it [...] to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union."
Living in Belgium has made me a more global citizen, meaning that I view country lines as man-made divisions, and also made me more American, meaning I know that the best way to serve our world is to focus first on our birth-turf. Your country is a great gift. Without needing to dive into political discussion, I can say that America, Belgium, and the world are at a crossroads. The America that I will hand to my children will be drastically different from America today. As a citizen to another citizen, I ask you to recognize your privileged duty to implore that God "heal the wounds of the nation," and to give it "the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union." If we try to heal the wounds of a country without Him, we have kicked the doctor out and are attempting self-surgery.
We can change our country for the better. (When I say "our country", I do not solely speak of the USA.) God promises: "If [...] my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health."**
I'm investing in our country's future. Will you? Influence our government. Seek God. Pray.
--Soren
*http://www.abrahamlincolnonline.org/lincoln/speeches/thanks.htm
** 2 Chronicles 2:13-15, The Message
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