Ah, where can I start? I've been on sensory overload for the last week. It's hard to believe that it's only been a week since we packed up the little Jetta, piled in and headed out on the extended road trip that brought us home in time for Thanksgiving.
Home to little sisters, running out to greet us with bear hugs.
Home to lights shining cheerfully, beckoning us in.
Home to a delicious dinner that had been saved for us travelers.
Home to Dad and Mom and all thirteen of my siblings, my siblings' spouses and their kids.
Laughs and hugs all around, stories from the road, pictures to be shared, memories to be recounted. Peace and warmth and love and then a whole slew of work to be done in preparation for the forty-two guests at the Thanksgiving table.
Ironing table cloths and folding napkins became a game. Mountains of dishes a challenge. Music and harmonies seeping out every corner of the house, sometimes even the same song at the same time in the same key!
Windows were washed, food prepared and consumed, floors swept and vacuumed and swept again.
And then came the phone call, announcing that our sister-in-love was in labor.
Thanksgiving for family, and all that the word means.
Thanksgiving for the opportunity to be witness to the miracle of my newest niece's birth.
Thanksgiving for Jesus, loving me in spite of myself.
Thanksgiving for the awe and wonder of life here on this earth. And I'm told that Heaven is even better than this!
"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet simple things of life which are the real ones after all." Laura Ingalls Wilder
I'm beginning to learn that she is right.