My Timeline is Sprinkled With Thankfulness
Never lose sight of being thankful. Allow the memories to come and remind you of the sweetness of life. Be courageous to teach your mind and heart to work together and announce to the world the difference you have learned between hard times and good times. Honestly, I wish it wasn’t true but without the one, there is not the other.
It isn’t easy. But worth the journey.
I was remembering Thanksgiving at my parents’ home growing up. What a time. We lived in sunny California, and everyone would descend upon that little house I grew up in. When all the family was there and often times friends also, every chair was filled and the floor covered with kids, sleeping bags and blankets. How we managed with one bathroom still amazes me to this day! No one ever complained but you better get in and get out in a hurry.
My precious mom would have been up all during the night basting the turkey. Think of that. Who does that anymore? She had been baking pies also and stashing them in my bedroom. Why my bedroom you ask? Well because it was now the largest room next to the living room.
Over the years they had done some remodeling and enlarged the living room and my bedroom. Yay! I had grown up with two sisters and the original room was so very small, but we managed that too. They bought me new furniture and dressers and desk that went nearly the length of the room. Now at thanksgiving the beautiful pies were lined up in all their glory. Also, mom was trying to hide them from my dad! But he always managed to ruffle her baking feathers and sample each pie. Everything was made from scratch. Chocolate, Lemon Meringue, Coconut Cream, Pumpkin and Pecan. This was the dessert menu every year.
Did she leave recipes for us girls you might ask. Nope. But I confiscated an old cookbook where she had made notes in. And my sisters and I combined all we knew and can do a pretty good job of replicating her recipes. I cannot quite get the meringue as beautiful as she did though. Hers was perfect and lightly browned right at the tip of each swirl. It didn’t happen often, but I remember she would get frustrated if she “made the meringue weep”. You know what that means right? The meringue would get a little runny, like tears. I remember being quite puzzled by that phrase because as a little girl I asked my mom,” Why would a pie cry?” Though I have practiced her skills many times, it seems when I bake her pies most of mine do cry! But they still taste so good.
Now, I must tell you about my Aunt Lula who was also a baker. She had been married to Uncle Ralph since she was 14 and lived to be a delightful 94 years old. He was a farmer in the beautiful San Juaquin Valley where I grew up. He always dressed like he was on a safari. Especially the hat he wore. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Africa and the animals there. Every time I would go to their lovely home, he would take me outside to see “the Ostrich egg”. Why he had it I don’t know but it was amazing to see over and over again. Also, he was a candy and wine maker. He arrived at Thanksgiving with his latest creations. He gave See’s Candies a run for their money with his delectables. Uncle Ralph’s wine was quite rich from the flavorful grapes of the valley, and I was told that those that partook of it enjoyed it best by the smallest of sips.
Memories are flooding my mind right now as I purpose to remember and be thankful for my life and all the people in it. Uncle Ralph grew many things, but my favorite was the watermelon patch. I was in high school and me, my boyfriend and some friends went out into his patch to partake of the delicious watermelons. We would find a ripe one, crack it open and eat the heart out of it. That’s the center of the watermelon where there were fewer seeds of course and superb in sweetness. Then we would repeat the process. Yes, I know it was quite wasteful. We finally left the patch in a hurry when we heard him fire his shotgun in the air to let us know he was on to us. I don’t think he ever knew I was part of that silly crime. To this day it has been a well-kept secret. No one would have believed it was Charles McDonalds daughter that was amongst the mischief anyway. And yes, my maiden name is McDonald, and I was ribbed every first day of school by the song “Old McDonald had a Farm”. They also pronounced my first name wrong; It is Denise NOT Dennis (the boys name). So, there I was Dennis McDonald the farmer’s daughter with a boy’s name!
Anyway, back to Aunt Lula. She was a woman that was perfection in appearance. Her hair was always perfect. Her clothes were stylish as well as her makeup and jewelry. But I remember being fascinated by her ear lobes. Earrings back then were practically made of raw steel and extremely heavy! The hole in her pierced ears was very loooooooog. The earring stretched it out because of the weight of the earrings! That would have been convenient for some of today’s styles. You could just plop one of those “stretching rings” in the pierced hole. I think it is called Ear Stretching or Ear Gauging. Anyway, as I write this, I imagine seeing my beautiful Aunt Lula with big rings in her ears! Memories can be funny too.
So, about Aunt Lula’s baking skills. Did I mention her house was perfect as well? She collected dolls. She had elegant glass-enclosed cases full of the most beautiful dolls I had ever seen. I enjoyed seeing them every time I visited, and she reveled in showing them. I am quite sure they were worth a fortune. If you had a phobia about dolls, her house was not the house for you! I had a beautiful huge Bride Doll, and I wanted her to live at Aunt Lula’s house in one of her guest bedrooms and so it was. Oh my gosh I can’t seem to get to her baking!
Here goes. My Aunt Lula was known for her Raisin Pie. You read it correctly. Raisin Pie. Everyone raved about her raisin pie! I lived down the road from the Raisin Capital of the world but still I hated raisin pie. For years I hated the raisin pie. Of course, I never told her that. I faithfully tried it every year until I thought it was somewhat good. I think I had to train my taste buds to develop a tolerance for it! As I write this, I just might try to bake one. A small one that is.
Now, to watch my Aunt Lula bake was a sight to see. Remember how I told you she was perfect in appearance every day and always dressed and lived in an immaculate house? When it was baking time, she was a wild woman. There she was in the kitchen in puffs of flour surrounding her and floating about like clouds. No recipe to follow. She didn’t need one. Flour was in her beautifully groomed black hair. It was smudged all over her glasses, her face, her clothes, and drifted down upon her shoes. Of course, she did have one of those impressive aprons that you only see on women in Norman Rockwell paintings. I am laughing so hard right now! Though she was always proper she never seemed to mind what happened when she baked. My family. Gotta’ love ‘em.
On the day of Thanksgiving, Aunt Lula, smartly dressed would proudly enter my mom’s house carrying her beautiful Raisin Pie. Perhaps two. She was radiant with pride. Beside her was Uncle Ralph, looking ready for a safari and carrying his homemade candy and wine.
The height of our family Thanksgiving was quite a scene. Among the goings on would be my mom yelling at my dad to get his fishing lures out of the kitchen and clean off the table that was covered with reloading equipment for shotgun shells. You might even find a couple of Pheasants in the sink that were brought in after a Thanksgiving hunt or perhaps a few fish. It was a normal occurrence for me growing up. Oh, and the refrigerator was covered with photos of children and grandchildren. We would all argue about whose photos should be at the top. If you were the last to leave, well, yours would probably be as you gladly took the opportunity to place your shining face at the top before saying good bye. Most likely, the next time you showed up at their house you would find your photos had been de-ranked in status. I know this to be true because I did it many times.
I grew up enjoying the best of what nature had to offer in the Valley. Best fruits and vegetables and fresh meats and fish. Mostly I remember the clean crisp air of the San Juaquin Valley. We were surrounded by the impressive Giant Sequoia Mountains and trees that stood towering in such grand glory. I would look towards the highest mountains and see clearly snow-capped beauties that were radiant with sunbeams glistening off their peaks.
I won’t mention that this was before all the “additives” started going into much of the food we consume. Well, I guess that was actually mentioning it. There you have it anyway. The point is, I lived in a great place and great time.
If our house wasn’t full because of family, well our friends would fill it up. My dad was quite a guy. Dad and I did lots of things together. He and I went to church and football games when mom couldn’t. We went fishing and hunting. Mom was not fond of that but enjoyed cooking for us. He taught me to drive all kinds of cars, trucks, motorcycles, dune buggy or go-cart by the time I was about 13 or 14 years old.
He nearly had more friends than one could imagine. He was a man’s man. When I grew up that was important. To be a person of integrity. A man of his word. Back when a handshake was good and true enough to take to the bank.
Here, let me elaborate a little about the phrase: “A Man’s Man”.
A man’s man is generally a male that puts the bigger things in life before him. He is humble, and always makes people feel important. He is very intelligent and works very hard. A man's man is someone that has aspirations in life and wants to be the best that he can be. He will never say or do anything out of the way that would hurt his career, family, or the person that he loves. He is very polite, and always works for what he has. He takes control of situations and does this to the very best of his ability.
There. Now those are qualities of good character that everyone can aspire to. It’s so important to remember core values and biblical foundational teachings. I often refer my reading to Genesis. There is something cleansing about going back to Genesis, “in the beginning.”
I’m thankful for the open door at my mom and dad’s house. Everyone was welcome. I didn’t know what it was like to grow up with the same color of skin as everyone else. I am well versed in ethnic backgrounds. Who were my friends you might ask? Well, let’s see; my friends were from Italy, Greece, Armenia, Mexico, China, Japan, Africa, Germany, Arabia, and the southeastern united states which brought me my father who is part Cherokee. I had it all; culturally, ethnically and my favorite of course was the variety of international cuisine.
Well, this was quite the different devotional. I hope it is one that encourages you to take a mental journey into what has made up your timeline. The good and the bad. The laughter and tears. I believe you will find your life has been an incredible journey. Your Christian quest has been colorful and ever changing. Look how far you have come! If you’re old like me, well that’s a lot of history for sure! Hopefully, you can take some time to acknowledge the many people that have walked alongside you that you may have forgotten about.
Some people don’t have good memories of home growing up. But try and remember who God brought into your life to give you what you needed. You have had a good effect on others along your timeline. You must choose to know it is true. Sure, maybe you were off the charts in foolishness now and then. Sometimes even a LOT off the grid in foolishness. Who hasn’t been? Well, maybe Billy Graham. But you know what I mean. I think that when we begin to fall off the chart of a good map it is because we allow our thoughts to go off the charts first. See, it is our thoughts that run us ragged if we allow them.
Wow, for me so many more stories came to mind as I was writing this! There was Uncle Doc, Aunt Thalia, Uncle Bud, Aunt Unis, cousins Frenchie and Maxine. And I cannot forget my Grandpa and Grandma. Good grief! They were all such characters!
One of the things I’ve noticed with my family is that we all remember others differently that we grew up with. It is definitely a good thing to remember and consider that fact. Relationships are different in a family because of the way different personalities understand each other. Have you had someone say to you, “that’s not the way I remember it.” The thing is when you really listen to the other persons interpretation, you can both learn something. You can then be an example to share and teach the benefits of perhaps that new and meaningful perspective. That is a good take away.
Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and we are all making plans. It is my prayer that this Thanksgiving more than any other, you will be overcome with a grateful heart. That you will allow your mind and heart to relate well and be filled with gratitude and a sense of wholeness.
Choose to push out of the way, or shove if you must, negative thinking, impossible situations, broken relationships, incomplete tasks, or seemingly unsurmountable odds that keep your grateful heart at bay. Open the door to your grateful heart. Extend a hand, lend an ear, give an embrace, wipe a tear from someone’s eyes, exchange a frown for a smile, forgive a wrong or two, make a difficult phone call, go an extra step, an extra mile even, surprise someone, send a card or perhaps simply show up unexpectedly.
There are no less than a million kind gestures a person can give away. Love cannot be contained, nor should it be. It is the greatest commandment Christ gives us. You cannot ever run out of love. Ever.
Psalm 77:11-14
11 I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
12 I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
13 Your ways, God, are holy.
What god is as great as our God?
14 You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the peoples.
Romans 12:13
13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
Isaiah 9:3
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder
1 Corinthians 13:11
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
Philippians 2:3
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,
James 4:6
6 But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:
“God opposes the proud
but shows favor to the humble.”[a]
Romans 12:1-2
12 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
1 Corinthians 12:12
12 Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ.
Psalms 139:13-14
13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.