"Glaf Clops"

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Hours of preparation for a thirty minute meal surrounded by loved ones are always met with mixed feelings. I, for one, really love cooking, however I frequently find myself cooking arguably the largest meal of my year (Young Life Camp excluded) in a small kitchen that is relatively unfamiliar to me, which is less than desirable. This year was no different on that front, however I had a lot of help. This is the first year that I have been responsible for such a great amount of the meal, and it went really well. I coached my mother through prepping the turkey, I handled a bourbon pumpkin pie and a jello salad, and she aided me in creating two mashed potato dishes: one for gravy and one to stand alone. We had nine mouths to feed, and no one left any way close to hungry. All parties were thrilled with the food, and I think all our hearts were thankful for one another and the shared time.

My Aunt Teresa is famous for her ability to switch letters and syllables in spoken words (golf claps came out as glaf clops) and is thus the subject of much of our laughter as a family. She provides us with stories to share for years. Actually, we all have provided humorous antics. Each year the same stories are told, and we laugh just as hard, if not harder. We always play Catch Phrase, and this year we played the Game of Things which was most enjoyable. My cousin Joely is now seven years old and is getting to the point where she can really interact with all of us, and I think we all appreciate getting to see her develop and gain more of her own personality as kids do. She has energy and excitement almost all the time, and that can rub off on the rest of us. My mother and Aunt Teresa bonded with Joely well this year, I think. "Miss Mary Mack" was taught and repeated many, many, many times. And then repeated some more. I know all the words, and I certainly did not before.

I must confess that I have moments of extreme cynicism in regards to family. No family is perfect, and it is easy to believe your family is the worst, and I get stuck there. My family certainly has what sometimes seems like more than its fair share of discontent, but for this four day period, I believe we were largely able to look passed any issues and simply enjoy one another. I got to see my mother display a child-like joy that I have not seen in a long time as she played clapping games with her sister and niece. Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary were able to relax more and not worry as much about what their daughter might be doing. Aunt Teresa was there to field difficult questions for me and provide a listening ear. Nana sat, watched, directed the baking of rolls, and laughed. If you looked into her eyes, there was love and peace that she probably has not felt in a while as she manages the less wonderful parts of age and a weaker body. When I wasn't in the kitchen, I sat and watched a lot. Siblings can certainly lose sight of the good in one another as they face life, realize that they are vastly different, and see one another change. However, this Thanksgiving I am so thankful for clarity of vision in what is important and what is beautiful in family - my quirky, dysfunctional, broken, hilarious, loving family.

Along with family rides friendship in my heart. For whatever reason, this Thanksgiving equated with a trip into Sean's past. High school was not my favorite time of life. In fact, I loathed it, and thinking back to it isn't loved either. Those four years were pervaded by broken friendships, a keen lack of understanding of myself, and heartache. Of course there were good things, too, those are overwhelmed by the not-so-good it seems. I have apologized time and time again to people I hurt, and have forgiven people that have hurt me. However, forgiving myself is the most difficult task for me, and probably deserves it's own post or five... As I reflected on a few lost friendships last weekend and the beginning of this week, I had no idea what was awaiting me on Wednesday night. I literally faced a friendship which I assumed was long gone. It didn't end well in high school, at least I didn't handle the end of it well. What actually happened was that our needs changed. Tell that to an angsty, emotionally intense, seventeen years old Sean, and see how he takes it.

Josiah (the friend) and I saw each other randomly at a friend's house. There was no awkwardness (I let go of my hurt and anger over that friendship long ago), and we simply started talking and catching up between interruptions and distractions. We talked about music, literature, random stories and anecdotes, and laughed a lot. At the end of the night we were both getting ready to leave and the conversation led us to the point of no return: discussing our friendship. Neither of us seemed to avoid it, so in we jumped. Apologies were given and accepted, honesty was displayed, and genuine wishes to have done things differently were shared. At one point I told Josiah "I have thought a lot about what I would say to you.. Turns out that this was it". That was the truth, and it caught me off guard. Never had I actually thought this kind of conversation would happen, nor that we would ever simultaneously express the desire to re-enter each others' lives. Redemption. Reconciliation. My heart Rejoiced. No where in my being was I aware that this is what my heart needed, but it was. I had spent so much time looking at the ways I had messed up and hurt people, and I found myself believing that nothing would ever change that. Not one day later, I faced Truth. Truth that says that love, time, and genuine hearts can allow Redemption. Nothing is completely lost if there is real desire for change. There is no room for "glaf clops". No. My heart erupts with applause at the thought that, even after heartache and friendships dismissed, there can be Redemption, Reconciliation, and Rejoicing.

And there is much Thanksgiving for that.