Just Another Day

Tis the season for a myriad of emotions.  Many are excited, unpacking boxes of decorations, plotting to have a lighting ceremony as the sun sets on Thanksgiving.  Others are excited about the new Facebook app which allows a disengagement with someone who was formerly one’s boo.  Still some are settling into the sadness that often rears its ugly head as they cope with loneliness and depression, reflecting upon lost loved ones or not feeling a sense of connectedness to others.  I found myself vacillating between emotions as our daughter shared that she would not be coming home for Thanksgiving.  Part of me, the educator was Godly proud of her decision to elect to remain at school and spend some time in the lab, but the part of me that has been her mother for nearly 22 years became overwhelmed with a sense of sadness.  After all, she takes in the most food, and the entire menu is planned around her.  Perhaps more importantly was just the concept of being without her on this coming Thursday for the first time she entered the world.  I got sad.  I felt disappointment.  I wanted to cancel Thanksgiving.  I cried; and then the Holy Spirit convicted me.

I know our love for one another extends beyond a day – just like the love of our Heavenly Father.  Being grateful is not relegated to a day; it’s a lifestyle.  I am grateful that this daughter, born to parents of an impressionably young age is indeed happy, healthy and whole.  Despite a divorce in her preschool years, being raised solely by me with no interaction from her father, she is smart with a comical dose of satire that floors anyone who is clever enough to catch it.  She is beautiful, inside and out.  She is talented beyond my wildest dreams and her creativity astonishes me.  She is not the loudest in the room – if you’re not observant, you can miss her; and if that is the case, her brilliance can be likened to that of an eclipse, it may be a while before you catch it, because she is always on the move.  I am just at a point of being at a place to reflect upon the gift God gave me nearly 22 years ago, because over the last two weeks I have been embroiled with a series of attacks and intermingling with imps who serve at the pleasure of the enemy.

I have experienced the actions of others over the last two weeks that reflect an inability to “keep their hands or for that matter, actions to themselves.”  It’s exhausting.  It’s frustrating….and it provided just enough of a distraction to keep me from lamenting over the fact that my precious daughter would not make her Thanksgiving debut in our home.  I am so very grateful to God.  He didn’t allow me to be sad, but instead go into deeper prayer, be alert and be bold in calling out the actions that are contrary to what he requires in his Word.  We are affirmed of our ability in Luke 10:19, “I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you.” The attacks that were sent in my direction enabled me to be reminded of who I belong to, and as a result of that belonging, I have AUTHORITY! I have it to call those things that are not, as though they were (Romans 4:17).  Is it possible for us to consider distractions as bits of disfigured love from the Creator to keep us from our own demise? Is it useful to believe that disappointments are cloaked in opportunities to draw closer to the lover of our soul? How might we implement a personalized jedi mind trick (cant wait!) and truly believe that our challenges are masked in triumph?

This coming Thursday, one of our family members will not be at the table.  Instead, she will be at the sewing table, preparing for her collection that is due early December.  She is on her grind to graduate in the spring.  She is making a sacrifice and God always honors accordingly.  I am not out of the enemy’s line of fire, but I am so very grateful to God! It’s not about the food nor the football.  It’s about the fellowship with Christ that has kept our family tightly knitted over the years, and his faithfulness to us, no matter how foolish we have been.  Happy Thanksgiving – not just for Thursday, but for each day the Lord allows.  I am reminded of the song that rings in my spirit as though I’m siting in my home church, Zion Temple Missionary Baptist in Chicago, “Just another day the Lord has kept me.”  Be blessed.

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