“‘If they offer it as an expression of thankfulness, then along with this thank offering they are to offer thick loaves made without yeast and with olive oil mixed in, thin loaves made without yeast and brushed with oil, and thick loaves of the finest flour well-kneaded and with oil mixed in. Along with their fellowship offering of thanksgiving they are to present an offering with thick loaves of bread made with yeast. They are to bring one of each kind as an offering, a contribution to the Lord; it belongs to the priest who splashes the blood of the fellowship offering against the altar. The meat of their fellowship offering of thanksgiving must be eaten on the day it is offered; they must leave none of it till morning.
– Leviticus 7:12-15
Our friends in Canada have already celebrated Thanksgiving Day, but I would like to wish all readers a Happy Thanksgiving. Each and every day should be a day to remember how we got here and giving thanks to our God who reigns sovereign over the earth.
When I read this passage from Leviticus in the mindset of our usual Thanksgiving meal, my head started to swim, and my stomach started to do some gymnastics. You must eat every morsel of the meat? Yikes!
My wife has become a master at dreaming up dishes that contain turkey. Even then, we are still eating turkey a week later, unless we freeze some of it. These offerings mentioned in the Scripture are either small or they have large families.
For what am I thankful? There are too many things to count. My wife and I have both had surgery this year. My procedure might not even count in having a kidney stone removed, but I was put out cold. I also had a colonoscopy, so I have had my share of dreamland forced sleeping this year. My wife trumps me with her one surgery, open-heart – now with bovine tissue forming her aortic valve and three by-passes.
Why do surgeries count as part of being thankful? For one, we are still here, and it seems my wife will be much more energetic and stronger when she builds up her stamina. And the pain suffered then and now reminds us that we need Jesus for each new step in our lives.
The photo above was taken in March. We had not had both of our sons’ families under one roof since our middle grandchild – firstborn of the second son’s children – was less than two years old. Since this picture, he turned ten. With only one reunion having everyone together in eight years is definitely something to be thankful for. By the way, I am laughing in the picture, because both sons started saying “Cheese” in harmony with the children a beat or two beats later. It reminded me of the Three Stooges saying “Hello, Hello, Hello.”
I am very thankful for all my readers – those that respond with likes and comments and those who do not. I do this for you.
I am also thankful that God keeps our minds active, that is my wife and me. God does not sleep on us. He watches over us as we sleep, and He never takes a day off. How can I respond to that other than to keep writing my posts and sending them out to anyone who might read them. God has made this possible.
By the time this is posted, I will have my feet propped up, reading a book while the football game is on television. If the book is interesting, I will not even know the score of the game. If neither are interesting, I might be asleep. But sleeping because I ate every bit of the 12 pound turkey? No way. I will offer thanks again when my wife fixes turkey tetrazzini and whatever else she dreams up this year.
And as for the 12 pound turkey – I went with my Dad to a grocery store in nearby Tupelo, MS when we visited at Thanksgiving from South Carolina (about 35 years ago). We looked through their turkeys in a huge freezer and found that the largest was about 16 pounds. My Dad rang the buzzer to talk to the butcher.
Butcher: Can I help you?
Dad: I would like to see your turkeys, please.
Butcher: Sir, you are standing in front of a freezer full of them.
Dad: These are not turkeys. At best, they are overgrown chickens.
Butcher: Sir, I can assure you that they are turkeys.
Dad: Sir, I used to raise turkeys. I know the difference in an overgrown chicken and a turkey.
Butcher (finally smiling): I understand.
The butcher disappeared for less than a minute and reemerged with a 24 pound turkey. My Dad started inspecting the bird for any blemishes, but the butcher winked and told me that he had expected a thorough inspection from someone who knew what to look for.
If my Dad were still around, I would have to apologize. We only got an ‘overgrown chicken’ this year. Two people can eat only so much turkey.
Soli Deo Gloria. Only to God be the Glory.