Thanksgiving Minus the Trimmings

Everywhere I look, Thanksgiving seems to be defined by three words: Family, Friends, and Food.

But this Thanksgiving I had a couple encounters that caused me to question: If God took away my scrumptious turkey and mashed potatoes, my incredible family, my cozy house, and (only slightly interesting) football game...what would I tell Him this Thanksgiving?

Yesterday, my family had the blessing of making, serving, and eating Thanksgiving dinner with the ladies and kids at Shepherd's Door (the women/children section of the Portland Rescue Mission).

Each of those women is at this facility for a year, where they go on a tedious path of recovery from broken pasts. This was, for many of them, one of their first Thanksgivings without their family...without a lot of things. Yet they were so happy to get dinner and it was such a joy to get to celebrate with them.

But on our way there and on our way back home, I saw around five panhandlers on various corners, standing in the annoying drizzle, just them and their few bags, doing what they do everyday. They had no family to laugh with, no turkey and gravy to stuff themselves with, no games to play, or fire to sit by. I couldn't help but think, "I can't imagine a Thanksgiving like that! That is just not what this holiday is about. Nobody should have to spend it like that! I mean really, a Thanksgiving day without Family, Friends, and Food...well, it's just not Thanksgiving anymore."

See what I mean? This is what I have ingrained in my head too...Thanksgiving is a holiday dependent on my happiness. my comfort. me.

But what if I was in that homeless man's shoes? Would my hope and my faith in Christ transcend my circumstances, giving me reason to give thanks and be joyful? Would I have the faith to fulfill Christ's command to "give thanks in all circumstances"? 1 Samuel 2:6-7 says, "The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up. The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts." I'm obviously very quick to thank Him for giving me riches, but would I be so willing as to joyfully say thank you for poverty and pain?