Wrote this a few weeks ago and wasn't able to get it posted...here it is now though!
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It's the most wonderful time of the year. And no, I'm not referring to Christmas. Next week is my Christmas. It's called Thanksgiving. And if I hear any Christmas music before Friday...heads will roll...sort of...
The thing I love so much about this holiday has everything to do with the marathon meals my family would have at Grandma and Grandpa's in NY. There would barely be enough room on the table for the plates we would eat off of because there would be so much food. And we would sit there for hours and hours. We'd eat everything, Grandma would bring each adult male their own pie...yes, their own pie. Why only the adult males? I don't know, probably because the women has more sense to not try and eat a whole pie. And then, we'd bring everything back out onto the table. We'd never leave.
We would sit around and play a little game called, Do you remember the time? No, not the Michael Jackson Song, and it wasn't really a game...it was more of a, who can tell the best story time? My Dad would talk about dismantling a VW Beetle with friends and getting it rebuilt in the Presidents office at his school. My Uncle would talk about driving around town in a car with his buddies and my aunt scaring the crap out of two townies who thought they wanted to fight. "Please, god, don't kill us." (my personal favorite). Then my uncle and my dad would talk about playing catch in the bedroom, top bunk to bottom bunk...with my other uncle. We'd sit around and laugh and eventually would find ways to make new stories. We all still laugh about the time my cousin watched my dad build a mountain of food on his plate and then with fear in his eyes, wrap two arms around his own plate as if to say, please don't take mine.
These stories were wonderful, they were bonding. I can tell half of these stories as well as they can because I've heard them over and over...they never get old. In Joshua, after they cross the Jordan, Joshua tells the people to grab twelve stones and build an altar to God. So they can remember. So that whenever they pass by hear and people ask why, they can say, do you remember the time...so they can celebrate what God had done.
We need to do this. We need to remember, we need to take the time to tell people the stories of what God has done in our lives. Like an old army vet describing his war wounds to his grandkids, we need to describe the moments when God has shown up and saved us; when he made a way out of no way. It's uplifting, and more than anything, it is a reminder of the greatness of God and the supremacy He has.
So, tell me, what's your story? What is it that you remember? What is it that God has done for you? Finish this sentence, "Do you remember the time...
