Skip to main content

Everyday Satisfaction - The Glorious Table

As I fill my plate, the odds are stacked against me. Even with the aid of a forgiving waistband, I almost never lick the plate clean at Thanksgiving dinner.
This celebration elevates the average dinner’s protein-vegetable-starch trifecta to an Olympic level. Why settle for one kind of potato when you can have baked, mashed, twice baked, and sweet? Who would eat only green bean casserole when squash can have marshmallows and pecans toasted on top and still be called a vegetable? I don’t know about your house, but at mine, no one asks if I would like dessert; instead I’m invited for a tour of the dessert table as if it’s round two of dinner.
I routinely forego breakfast on Thanksgiving Day. In fact, the big dinner is quite often my only meal of the day. It takes absolutely all my stomach space to fully experience it. I lean back in my chair and eat slowly to maximize the number of bites I can take without risking combustion. It’s just that good.
The dinner table’s lure isn’t solely in the deliciousness of each individual dish; the combinations are what make Thanksgiving magical. Turkey becomes divine with Grandma Herrick’s homemade cranberry relish sparkling in its crystal dish. Gravy seeps its way through the potatoes and stuffing, casting a spell over everything it touches. The total package exceeds expectations, making you unable to put the fork down until you have completely obliterated the idea that you could feel hungry again in the near future.
I’ve usually changed into sweat pants by the time our football team comes on the big screen so my belly can stop crying in pain. I lean back and sigh the big Thanksgiving sigh of utter satisfaction. I am absolutely full, and I go to bed breathing deeply of the amazing smells the house still holds.
sep_florida-01
We should be chasing this kind of satisfaction every day, not by risking a 300-pound weight gain through the pursuit of a huge daily meal, but in a determination to be satisfied and completely full by the life God has offered... (Continued at The Glorious Table.)


Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fear - You're Not the Boss of Me Anymore! - Part 1

I had a recurring nightmare as a child. It woke me in the middle of the night and kept me awake worrying about whether it would fill my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. I thought I would outgrow it. I hoped my adult brain would be able to see things my child’s brain couldn’t and I would be free. Instead, a panicky fear of my Dad dying followed me into marriage and parenting. I’m 49 years old and until recently, the nightmare still showed up in various forms.
This year my beloved Daddy died. I watched him take his last breath in front of me and imagined him arriving with the next in heaven. My whole life I’ve been clenched up around the fear that watching him die might break something inside of me and I couldn’t survive. 

It didn’t happen. I’m more okay than I ever thought possible. My dad isn’t living anymore, he’s not here on earth for me to talk to or touch and I’m sitting upright and in my right mind. Today I’m amazed at my okayness. Finally being free of this fear I’ve lived with s…

What You Need, When You Need It - The Glorious Table

We ate steak at the fanciest place in town, me and my sister, our husbands, and our parents. Around the table, we joined Mom’s reminiscing. We retold our favorite stories of family vacations and holidays. We revealed some silly childhood secrets. And we listened to Mom’s stories from fifty years she and Dad spent together. One of our favorite stories is of the birthday Mom expected a diamond ring but went home from their swanky dinner with a shiny new set of hot rollers. Whenever Mom tells that story, instead of making fun of Dad for his slow-moving ways, she praises his serious, methodical decision making. She points to it as proof of his dependability.My mom told stories. I told stories. My sister told stories. Even our husbands had memories to share. We retold some of the stories Dad put on paper in his journal for us. The thing we missed most was Dad’s voice in the storytelling.Rather than telling the stories himself, he locked eyes on the teller and responded, “By golly, that hap…

A Cup of Cold Water for Thirsty Mommas - Day 1

For the first time in nearly 20 years....I. Don't. Have. A. Preschooler.  Picking out gym shoes and putting a backpack on Ginger has put me in a reflective mood.  It's obvious that she's ready to begin school .....the question is, am I? 

The truth is, it's been an awesome run.  I'm incredibly grateful that I have been able to spend these years at home focused on soaking up the first years of my kids' lives.  I have loved being the one who teaches them colors, how to take turns during board games, why it's polite to use a tissue instead of a sleeve and being able to pass on my awesome Thriller dance moves.  It was an intentional choice that Scott and I made, right at the beginning, to order our little world in such a way that I could focus on being a mom.

You see, I believed my mom.  She told me to listen to what I've heard about women being able to have it all and do it all.  She told me to dream about a career, dream about being a mom, dream about ho…