“Take a turkey out to lunch
Let him sit right down and munch
But don’t say a word to that silly old bird
About… you know… Thanksgiving Day —
Oops! I gave it away!
Gobble, gobble, gobble!”

Nutmeg danced around the living room a couple days ago, high on the song she had learned and the Pilgrim hat she had made at school.

This is the first Pilgrim hat ever to come home to our house from school. It is a Thanksgiving for remembering.

Three Thanksgivings ago, we were living on the side of a 7,250-foot pile of desert rocks. There were no neighbors in sight. The kids didn’t attend school or church or anywhere regularly. I was holding my breath until we could settle into a place that felt like home.

I’m not a desert person, and I’m sure I grumbled and complained before we moved here — at least internally.

Psalm 78

“Can God really spread a table in the wilderness? True, he struck the rock, and water gushed out, streams flowed abundantly, but can he also give us bread? Can he supply meat for his people?” (vv. 19-20)

I easily forget that my current situation is part of the journey – a place to know God better, to depend more fully on His provision, to increase faith in what He can do.

“They forgot what he had done, the wonders he had shown them.” (v.11)
“In spite of his wonders, they did not believe.” (v.32)
“They did not remember his power—the day he redeemed them from the oppressor.” (v.42)

God likes to prepare places for us – Edens and Promised Lands and Zions (past and future).

He likes us to remember that He is leading us home, to the other side of the desert. He does not like us to forget the works He has done along the way, the miracles He does to bring us to these places… because forgetting prevents our peaceful trust in His ability.

“He did miracles in the sight of their ancestors…

He brought his people out like a flock…
He guided them safely, so they were unafraid…
He settled the tribes of Israel in their homes.”
(vv. 2, 13-16, 52-53, 55)

This week the kids and I looked back through old pictures… a time to remember… a catalyst for making a thanksgiving list. I’m relieved to find signs of belief and gratitude in the desert.

There are still deserts in our current circumstances that leave me aching for something that feels more like home. There always will be, this side of Home.

I want to look back in a few years and find thanksgiving in my current deserts – signs that I have remembered how faithfully God brings me into places that are plentiful.

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed Be Your Name

Blessed Be Your Name
When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your Name

– Matt Redman