In 2016 Wanda Dench sent a text inviting her grandson to her Thanksgiving dinner, not knowing he’d recently changed his phone number. The text instead went to a stranger, Jamal. Jamal didn’t have plans, and so, after clarifying who he was, asked if he could still come to dinner. Wanda said, “Of course you can.” Jamal joined the family dinner and what has since become a yearly tradition for him. A mistaken invitation became an annual blessing
Wanda’s kindness inviting a stranger reminds me of the Torah instructions how we should treat the stranger and the poor. God commanded us to be generous and share with others. Our ancestors were to include the foreigner and the poor in their celebrations and feasts (Deuteronomy 16:9-12; 26:8-11) and to give a tithe to share God’s provisions and abundance with them (26:12). They were to treat foreigners as if they were native born Israelites and love them as they love themselves (Leviticus 19:34; 24:22; Deuteronomy 27:19)
For Wanda, inviting Jamaal to her family for Thanksgiving dinner resulted in an unexpected blessing of lasting friendship that was a great deal of encouragement to her after her husband’s death. When we reach out to others, not because of what we might receive, but because of God’s love flowing through us, we receive far greater blessing and encouragement.
Sharing our blessings from Thanksgiving through Hanukkah is easy. Our entire country is inspired to give generously. If we can be as generous after the holidays as we are now, then every day will be a thanks giving day.
But what happens if you don’t feel like giving thanks? What happens if you are going through a time of loss, grief, or deep suffering? What if, like Job, you feel that everything around you has completely fallen apart, and you are struggling with the apparent absence of God? Do you smile and fake it? Or is thanksgiving completely out of the question? Each year, people struggle with this question. Are you struggling with this question today? If we think that thanksgiving is about noticing our surrounding blessings, then we might think that suffering and loss invalidate it. Worse yet, we may feel that suffering and loss are contrary to the life of faith. So, we judge ourselves because we don’t feel thankful. If we just had more faith, we say, these struggles or losses wouldn’t sting so much.
But here’s the thing about thanksgiving. True thanksgiving, as a spiritual discipline, is not about what happens to us; it’s about who is with us. We give thanks deeply not because God has removed all the hardships and turmoil from our lives but because He enters them. Even if we don’t recognize Him—even if we can’t see Him—because of our covenant, we can trust that, in some way, He is there. And it’s because that is who God is for us—because that was the expression of God’s redeeming power—that we can recognize the mercy and the grace that surrounds us.
Thanksgiving isn’t about plastering over our raw emotions under the guise of fake positivity; faith doesn’t run on “fake it till you make it.” You are never asked to pretend to be thankful or joyful when you feel the opposite. God knows how you feel. And so true Thanksgiving is about daring to believe that God is with you and then bringing to him the fullness of who you are and how you feel in this moment.
I hope that everyone has an amazing Thanksgiving celebration. And if you can rejoice in grand things, in great things, in blessings that have surrounded you or your family, then I hope that you are able to do that as robustly as you can. But if you find yourself dealing with a loss, or grief, or a deep struggle, such that positive exultations just don’t ring true for you, then I pray you rest in a deeper thanksgiving. I pray that you recognize the truth that the suffering and sympathetic Lord is on your side.
A Prayer:
Avinu shebashemayim, our Gracious and Loving God,
I want to be thankful. I want to be filled with joy and happiness. I want to radiate light in this world and draw people to the blessings you provide. But Lord, at this moment, I am at a loss. I struggle with a profound and soul-deep sense of suffering, grief, and heartache. In faith I know that you are the protector, the provider, and the healer, but I don’t feel those things in this moment. Lord, I pray for a touch from your hand. I ask that you reach into my life with a whisper of comfort and ease. Give me a vision of your presence, O Lord.
Lord, as I say these things, I thank you that I can say these things. I can bring my burdens to you because you are a God who enters the thick messiness of my life. Even If I don’t see you or feel you, you are with me, and because you are with me, I can unburden my soul to you. And so in some small way, O Lord, I give thanks, not because you surround me with miracles or because my situation of loss and struggle will magically vanish, but I give thanks because I stand not alone. You sympathize with my weakness, you hear my cry, you match my tears with your own. Lord, I pray you help me breath deeply this loving reality. Help me to live in this truth.
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