Thursday, November 22, 2012


Thanksgiving morning.  It’s 9:50 and I’ve just snuck upstairs to get out of my cooking clothes.  I’m going to look cute I decide.  Hair is done and make up is next –I hope someone has a camera out today.  From room #4, the one assigned to the Ellis’ this weekend, I can hear the sounds familiar to my family.  The eight grandchildren are all outside playing in the backyard.  There are four men supervising them.  The kitchen has been a hub of activity since 5:30 A.M.  One person constantly cleaning, another reading off directions from recipe cards while another bustles about gathering ingredients, measuring and stirring.   Right now I can hear Chrissy, the seventh born into our family of ten, telling those who have just arrived that she is not the one responsible for her fiancé’s bad haircut. She normally cuts his hair, but was busy the day he wanted a trim.  He went to the barber. “I told him it didn’t look good when they cut the back that way.  But He didn’t listen to me…”  She goes on.  As a woman who also cuts the guy’s hair in my family I can understand her frustration.  When Mike spends money on a haircut and it looks bad… I’m not a happy camper either.    I hear Emily, the oldest, speak up:  “Now you don’t tell him how to do his hair.  It’s his hair.  Don’t go bossing him around.”  She’s been married 12 years. 
Later Mom yells out to Grant, the sixth in the birth order, “Grant!  We don’t want any trips to the doctor today.  That’s too high.”  No wonder all the boys like him.  He pushes the swing fast.

I look out the window and see two men with babies, slowly walking around with their face toward the ground.   Austin had thrown a shoe. 
Mom just called me.  She’s cutting dad’s hair and wants advice on a style.  If you know anything about the Bosharts, then you know that they go big.  “A simple family Thanksgiving[C1] ?” That phrase sounds like Greek to me.  We try to pack as much into the weekend as possible.  Apparently there was unscheduled time between 9:55 and 9:59 this morning. Something had to go there.  Oh!  How about we give dad a haircut? Perfect.   A haircut… probably be a ten minute job so we will need to put a rush on the sweet potatoes in order to get them in the oven on time.  And… go.

Back from the haircut.  I don’t think Mom will call me for fashion advice again.  She didn’t seem to be on board with the messy hair look.   I think Dad will have no problem pulling it off. 

Stan (#3) is the only one who couldn’t make it home this year.  He is out of state working.  He is good at what he does and well, people like him, so they gave him a four month project working almost nonstop at a Nuclear power plant.  It won’t be the same here without him.  He is probably the most pleasant one of us to be around.  And I’ll miss seeing the wide-eyed smile on his face as he takes in all the chaos that accompanies the 21 people busily going about this house.  It’s like he goes back to his bachelor pad and instantly forgets, every gathering amazed, as if for the first time, at how we can all function in such noise and discord. 
Thanks to this huge house I’ve been left relatively alone for the last hour while I write this.  (Yes, I was interrupted several times by things like haircuts and nursing babies and stopping toddlers from climbing up the stairs.)  People are about to arrive, my mom’s extended family will be here --at least some of them.  It will be a small crowd this year due to my cousin, Mark, getting married in Nebraska this weekend.

It’s amazing how there can by so many things within 100 feet of me to be thankful for  --two of them just walked in (Grace and Chris).  Not just one day, but every day we must train our eyes to focus on our blessings and when we see them, give thanks.  One thing I read recently said something to the extent of “How can we keep asking God for more blessings when we haven’t stopped to thank him for the ones he’s already given us.”   
I love coming home.  That’s something I’m thankful for this year.  The 100,000 things that went into making this crazy house a place of encouragement, safety, correction, fun, and refreshment.  Thank you Lord for people who teach and strive to live by your Statutes.  What could be more of a gift than to grow up in a family who believed Your Word.  Posted behind me are the Words: “Let all that you do be done in love.”

And that has made all the difference


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