It’s Sunday morning, and I flew back from California Friday night. As soon as I walked in the door, my friend from church came to pick me up for a Thanksgiving Part II celebration, which was a time dedicated to the “thankfulness” part of the holiday. We sat around the living room and silently recalled what we have to thank God for, and then prayed aloud, thanking God for those provisions of a physical, object, or emotional nature. It was precious, and the prayers were deep and true and real. So many gifts, so many personalities, so many personal relationships with God were present in that place. Lovely.
In the beginning when we were silently musing, someone opened the front door and stepped in, and quickly said, “Oh, wrong house.” He must have thought we were CRAZY—all 10 of us sitting silently in a circle in a candlelit living room. Ha. Oh well, I choose to think and hope that maybe he saw angels in our midst, or at least a glow of holiness and love as God’s saints, his sons and daughters, called upon His name in thanks and prayer.
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