Start Early to Have Your Best Thanksgiving Ever

Make a list, make a plan, make ahead…
Make a mess, clean the mess, make sure… 
Extend the table, cover the table, decorate the table…
Race the clock, race back to the store; race to be ready to relax.

Right? 

Hold on; stop! No more. It is now November, and I want this to be your best Thanksgiving ever. But you need to begin early; you need to begin today.

Disclaimer - not all of my ideas are good ideas, they are just ideas. Yet this one is stellar, I promise. Long after the guests are gone and the melting ice cream is placed back into the freezer, you will thank me. 

The Suggestion: 
Memorize Psalm 103. 
Don’t panic. I am not adding one more thing to your to do list. Stay with me here. Easier than taking your turkey out of the oven, these benefits will outlast the leftovers.

The Context:
I deem Psalm 103 My Thanksgiving Psalm. Each November, I return to savor the soul nourishing words contained in these 22 verses. I look forward to this annual revisit more than I look forward to the sweet potato soufflé.

The Plan: 
In Psalm 103 a verse corresponds with each calendar day of November. By committing one verse per day to memory, you will finish on November 22nd, two days before the guests arrive on November 24, 2016. 

The Hack: 
You might ask, “How do I go about this?” Great question.
Rick Warren proposes a scripture memory method that actually works. 

Begin with the first verse. Emphasize the first word in the verse and then repeat all the words that follow. Follow by emphasizing the second word and recite all the words that follow. And so on. 
Repeat the one sentence over and over emphasizing a different word with each repetition, until you have completed the one verse. Surprisingly, the verse will now be yours, hidden in your heart.

Verse one would go like this:
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. (continue with each word)

On November 2nd you proceed to committing verse 2 to memory. 

The Why: 
Hiding God’s Word in your heart infuses peace and perspective into your holiday celebration. You literally prepare a feast for your soul as you prepare a feast for your family. If you like this idea, embark on a new tradition. These 22 rich and delicious verses are waiting for you, served below.

Psalm 103
Of David.
1 Praise the LORD, my soul;
    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD, my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
    and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
    and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
6 The LORD works righteousness
    and justice for all the oppressed.
7 He made known his ways to Moses,
    his deeds to the people of Israel:
8 The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
    slow to anger, abounding in love.
9 He will not always accuse,
    nor will he harbor his anger forever;
10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
    or repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
    so great is his love for those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
    so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion on his children,
    so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
    he remembers that we are dust.
15 The life of mortals is like grass,
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 the wind blows over it and it is gone,
    and its place remembers it no more.
17 But from everlasting to everlasting
    the LORD’s love is with those who fear him,
    and his righteousness with their children’s children—
18 with those who keep his covenant
    and remember to obey his precepts.
19 The LORD has established his throne in heaven,
    and his kingdom rules over all.
20 Praise the LORD, you his angels,
    you mighty ones who do his bidding,
    who obey his word.
21 Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts,
    you his servants who do his will.
22 Praise the LORD, all his works
    everywhere in his dominion.
Praise the LORD, my soul.

Question: How will this opportunity influence your holiday preparation?

Meet Women Who Survived The Cold War

                                           Palace of Culture, Warsaw, Poland

Rinnnggg! The doorbell announced their arrival, and I raced to respond. Throwing open the front door, my tears started to flow. There they stood - luggage and all - my precious friends. Let the reunion begin! Squeals, screams, smiles and hugs declared our togetherness. Then, standing in my foyer, our huddle of humanity instinctively joined hands, prayed, and sang The Doxology. 

Please allow me to describe a group of women who mean the world to me. My story is their story; to know me is to know them. We call ourselves The Cepelia Society. This name is derived from the famous Cepelia folk art shops in the land where are our journey began.

We are not a clique, but we are close. We are not alike, but we like to be together. We are stubborn, strong-willed, opinionated, and bossy. And…we are fiercely loyal. Our Uncommon Common History keeps us tenaciously committed and tightly connected to each other, and to other women who also march in our ranks.

Uncommon Common History
We are Women Who Survived The Cold War, missionary women who lived covertly behind the Iron Curtain in Poland - most of us in a nation not our own. Brought together by God’s Common Calling, we faced the daunting challenge to merge lives and move forward.

Under other circumstances we might not even be friends. We never were and never will be a homogeneous group. Our personalities are as varied as our zip codes; our preferences are as different as our backgrounds. Our opinions are as strong as horse radish.

Yet, because we have been to war together, we are bonded for life. In spiritual terms, we represent a female version of Band of Brothers. God gave us each other, and our relationships are near sacred. Not one of us could have made it alone, and we are quick to tell you that.

Uncommon Community
Clandestine camaraderie created the most inspiring connections. Behind the lines of NATO, a special brand of faithfulness flourished in our friendships. 

Our manifesto emerged from the words of Proverbs 27:17: As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. Language learning and potty training had to co-exist, and so did we. We learned to give - to give grace and to give space. We learned to forgive; we learned to laugh. (Did I say we learned to forgive?) Eventually, we learned to love each other because of our overarching love for Him. (I John 4:19)

We shared life on multiple levels: holidays, happy days, and hard days. Somehow, we survived hurtful days. We shared baby showers, birthdays, babysitting, and books. 

Most of all, we shared Jesus. 

Our commitment to the Gospel called us; our commitment to the Gospel kept us. 

We managed to make life work, because we determined to work together. We learned to learn from each other. Humility helped us realize how to benefit from our different God-given strengths, and show grace for our glaring human weaknesses. Our ongoing challenge persisted – focus on fighting the Enemy, not on fixing each other.

Uncommon Mission
Our mission was greater than any of our disagreements. It was never about us; it was always about Him. We stood on this common ground, and learned to let differences make us stronger. The Holy War in the midst of The Cold War remained:
Us against him (the devil) 
Us against them (the Communist authorities)
Never, us against each other
That. Luxury. Did. Not. Exist.

Missionaries share horror stories of life with other missionaries. By His grace, God spared us. Our desperate need for each other taught this group of women to collectively lean desperately into Him. After years of togetherness, we emerged from the foxhole clinging first to Him and clinging fast to each other – for life.

Uncommon Commitment
Since those days, God has taken us down different paths. But every so often our paths converge for a reunion. The Wall came down historically, and the walls come down relationally when we gather. “How are you doing?” gets a real answer, not a sanitized one. “How can we pray for you?” prompts praying here and now, with desperate urgency and passionate fervency. Bearing one another’s burdens means just that, bearing one another’s burdens. (Galatians 6:2)

Much too soon, what began with the ring of a doorbell ends with one last hug good-bye. Having relived shared memories, retold common stories, and consumed gallons of coffee in Bolesławiec mugs, we turn away to reenter the world of today. I go back into my house, close the door, and sit down and cry. I cry for joy, for the privilege of calling these women my friends. I cry for sorrow, for the length of time until we are together again.

But our Uncommon Common History will always bring us back, for with each other, we find a part of ourselves the rest of the world does not understand. 

“Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied,  “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred time as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields – (Mark 10:29-30)

Date Night!

One Thing We Got Right.

“Don’t look back; whatever you do, don’t look back,” I kept repeating under my breath. Excitement and urgency propelled me out the heavy wooden door of our Warsaw home. I didn’t want anything to block my leaving. I practically ran down the 12 concrete steps to our front gate.

Ignoring the oversized buttons, I grasped my thick wool coat around me. Winter boots, gloves, scarf, and hat were still needed in the chilly night that mocked the season of spring. 

In front of me: only the spiked fence stood between my vehicle and me.

Behind me: the babysitter locked the three heavy bolts that would protect our home and its occupants for the next three hours. 

This was Friday Date Night, and my husband and I were going on a date! Larry would travel by taxi from his clandestine office, and I would drive our car to join him. The destination was a small restaurant at the American Embassy open to any American citizen. 

                                  Cold War era photo, American Embassy Warsaw, Poland

Routinely, for years, Larry and I met weekly at the American Club in Warsaw. No membership was required, just an American passport. This tiny, modest venue provided the one place in the entire country where we could order a bacon cheeseburger, a Dr. Pepper, and a piece of cheesecake. 

We relished this reprieve in our complicated, covert lives. Sitting in our standard booth, with our standard menu, we talked, sipped Dr. Pepper, and connected. Though we guarded our conversation for security reasons, this environment gave us time to talk and a place to talk. 

Long before Warsaw, Larry and I established the routine Date Night. Early in our marriage, we made a commitment to preserve this once a week tradition. Doggedly, we worked to protect our sacred appointment.

It was never easy; no, never easy.

Different seasons brought different challenges. With babies, we just wanted sleep, not conversation. With toddlers, there was the hassle of arranging a babysitter. Having school age children brought the hurdle of homework. And with teenagers, their activities filled our calendars to capacity, leaving little margin for time alone.

One would think the empty nest allowed time, time, and more time for Date Night. Not so! Larry and Debby became full-fledged workaholics. Making the mistake of working way beyond normal hours, Date Night vanished. We rationalized that since we were together nearly 24-7, Date Night was unnecessary. 

Bad idea. Our communication and our marriage suffered, and we wisely called a halt to the foolish patterns challenging our agreement. 

You ask, "Is this really worth the bother?"

I understand your question, and answer that I believe it is. Looking back over more than 4 decades of marriage, I see the difference a weekly Date Night makes. 

Why I think a Date Night is valuable:

It punctuates our busy lives with a pause, a much-needed relational pause.
It protects from the damaging distance that threatens to creep into a marriage - we make a concerted effort to engage rather than to simply exist in our relationship.
It provides an opportunity to laugh, to listen, to connect, and to remember why we chose each other. 
It points forward to a future of life and dreams together. Like crossing a fast flowing, turbulent stream, on Date Nights we reach out and help each jump from one slippery stone to another.

Simple ground rules encourage success. Here are my suggestions. Declare testy topics off-limits: finances, problems at work, Christmas with which set of parents. (Not here, not now; another time, another place.) Determine to persevere even when your best efforts derail. Don't be deterred by too busy, too tired, too complicated, or too expensive. Decide before you leave home to be a blessing to your husband, or wife. Then, ask God, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to bring this to pass. (John 15:5)

Forty three years and counting, this is one thing we got right. 

Question: What is your greatest challenge in honoring a Date Night in your schedule?