I woke up to new mercies today and so did you. Every single day a fresh batch of new mercies. Lamentations 3:21-24 says, “This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”

Growing up, my dad’s parents lived in downtown Minneapolis in a high-rise apartment building. My mother’s parents lived in the north woods of Wisconsin. My sister and I learned to adapt to those very different surroundings. One year, we would spend Thanksgiving in Minnesota and Christmas in Wisconsin and the next year the opposite. It was wonderful!

On my dad’s side, my precious great Aunt Marge and great Uncle Norm hosted the holiday festivities. (Norm was my dad’s Uncle) They lived at 5217 Morgan Ave. S. in Minneapolis. For any holiday with this side of the family, we got dressed “to the nines.” My dad wore a suit and tie. My mother, sister, and I wore new dresses. It was so fun! We would make the one hour drive to Minneapolis anticipating the afternoon and evening. We would get out of the car. We were greeted with hugs & kisses by everyone. Then, we settled in for a wonderful time together. Lots of joy, laughter, and talking over a lovely meal.

On my mother’s side, we would get the theme for the holidays a few months prior. It came in the form of a letter. In the summer of 1986, my grandparents wrote that we were going to re-enact the first Thanksgiving. Each of us were assigned a different family that was either on the Mayflower or who were Native American. We had to come in costume and be ready to share about the family that we represented. There was lots of joy, laughter, learning, and talking over a lovely meal. It was lots of people. We were together not just for that meal but for many meals. We were together Wednesday through Sunday. It was absolutely amazing. (Someday, I will write a book about our other themed celebrations.)

This morning, I woke to a quiet house as I do most days. Today, though, there was the mercy of sadness. As I watched the sun peeking up over the horizon, I felt lonely. I missed those days of childhood, and I missed my grandparents. I missed my parents, and I missed my kids being home. I missed kids being excited to see their mama. I missed my husband. (He is flying and missing another holiday with us.) It’s OK. I have let the tears fall and this is a mercy from the Lord. I often gloss over those feelings of sadness but they are there today and tangible. In this, I can rejoice as my hope is in Christ. He is near.

Today, I am going to my sister’s home for Thanksgiving in Burnsville. She and her husband are wonderful hosts. I am always glad when she hosts. Over the years, I have had a few issues with the Thanksgiving meal. You can read about those here.

By God’s grace, all of my children and grandchildren will be there. This rarely happens, so it’s a mercy when it does. I am eager for us to be together. There will be lots of joy, laughter, and conversations over a lovely meal. We will be together but one will not be there and that is my Paul.

Blessings to you!