I've been thinking a lot about my paternal grandfather lately - this was his favorite time of year. The harvest was in and the days were getting shorter; the old scuppernong grape arbor was bare and pecans were falling like rain from the trees scattered around his little house on my uncle's farm. It was too late for a window fan and too soon to set a fire . . . it was just perfect!
As I said my prayers in the historic church early yesterday, I realized how much I share my grandfather's love for the late fall. No doubt my feelings are rooted in part in the two decades Becky and I farmed her family's land. With the equipment parked under sheds and the cattle home from the hills, an easy sort of peace settled over our lives, a peace that called us deep within ourselves for a time of reflection in advance of the family's gathering to celebrate Thanksgiving.
Like those fall walks with my grandfather fifty years ago, the scents and sights of farm life are decades past; but the grateful feelings that accompanied the changing leaves and nip in the air remain. Though the harvest takes a different form in the Lowcountry, our barns (yours and mine) are no less full and for the same reason . . . God has blessed us . . . again! I pray His loving provision, not just in the late fall but throughout the year, will be the focus of your gatherings this Thursday.
In His power and for His glory,