Take Me Home, Country Roads
Aunt Evelyn's famous 10 layer cake. Acres of farmland in the country. Twenty-something great-grandkids, all younger than me.These are the things I have listed off in the past week or so when describing my upcoming Thanksgiving with the Jordans, my Mom's Dad's side. Yet last night as I lay in bed thinking back over the past two days, I knew it was nothing but a paltry description of the event. I love my family, more than words can detail.
I usually spend Thanksgiving with my Dad's side, which is good...always an adventure, but good. This year, because I hadn't seen them all in a couple years, and missing the funeral of my great-aunt Earline earlier this semester left me miserable(Yes, Earline...she was named after her dad, Earl. Especially odd considering she had an older bother named Howard), I got to go see my beloved Jordans.
The food at this gathering is incredible. We arrived practically first, and my aunt Elsie (yeah...not a nickname, it's really Elsie) already had 13 things on the counter, plus the desserts in the other room and the things she kept pulling out of the fridge. I tried to take a picture of it all spread out once the rest arrived, but I couldn't fit it all into one shot. Desserts alone filled nearly two tables. It isn't just quantity that makes it impressive, however. It is the fact that every cake and casserole tastes award-winning. I think it is because it's all made with a lot of love...and a lot of calories.
If I were asked to paint a picture of God's love on earth, aside from the stereotypical(though appropriate) cross or empty tomb, I would paint a portrait of the Jordan family. They are such a beautiful personification of the depth and versatility of Christ's love. My grandfather was one of nine, and each one loves so well, but in such different ways. They will ask about your life, hug you and feed you, tease you about old adventures, and never sit down until you have all you desire, but not once will they needle you about not having a boyfriend, getting a few grey hairs, or losing that prestigious job. As my Mom said last night, nowhere else has she ever felt so unconditionally loved.
This week, I came home. Home to my parents, home to my Grandma's, home to the Jordans, but mostly home to God. Lately I'd been feeling pretty unloved by Him. Yet as I sat in bed at my Grandma's farm Thursday night, Bible before me, reflecting on the day, storing up the memories of sights and smells, I knew how utterly loved I was by my family. More than that, I knew how loved I am by God. The sweetness of the day was incredible, but it is a mere fraction of His tenderness for His children. That fact blows me away. It feels good to be home.
I usually spend Thanksgiving with my Dad's side, which is good...always an adventure, but good. This year, because I hadn't seen them all in a couple years, and missing the funeral of my great-aunt Earline earlier this semester left me miserable(Yes, Earline...she was named after her dad, Earl. Especially odd considering she had an older bother named Howard), I got to go see my beloved Jordans.
The food at this gathering is incredible. We arrived practically first, and my aunt Elsie (yeah...not a nickname, it's really Elsie) already had 13 things on the counter, plus the desserts in the other room and the things she kept pulling out of the fridge. I tried to take a picture of it all spread out once the rest arrived, but I couldn't fit it all into one shot. Desserts alone filled nearly two tables. It isn't just quantity that makes it impressive, however. It is the fact that every cake and casserole tastes award-winning. I think it is because it's all made with a lot of love...and a lot of calories.
If I were asked to paint a picture of God's love on earth, aside from the stereotypical(though appropriate) cross or empty tomb, I would paint a portrait of the Jordan family. They are such a beautiful personification of the depth and versatility of Christ's love. My grandfather was one of nine, and each one loves so well, but in such different ways. They will ask about your life, hug you and feed you, tease you about old adventures, and never sit down until you have all you desire, but not once will they needle you about not having a boyfriend, getting a few grey hairs, or losing that prestigious job. As my Mom said last night, nowhere else has she ever felt so unconditionally loved.
This week, I came home. Home to my parents, home to my Grandma's, home to the Jordans, but mostly home to God. Lately I'd been feeling pretty unloved by Him. Yet as I sat in bed at my Grandma's farm Thursday night, Bible before me, reflecting on the day, storing up the memories of sights and smells, I knew how utterly loved I was by my family. More than that, I knew how loved I am by God. The sweetness of the day was incredible, but it is a mere fraction of His tenderness for His children. That fact blows me away. It feels good to be home.
posted by Tiffany at 3:27 AM
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