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 of the year.  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 sixty 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 to turn my thoughts again to Thanksgiving.  Though the harvest takes a different form in the Lowcountry, our barns are no less full and for the same reason: God has blessed us . . . again!

The weekend of November 21st, we’ll be gathering as a parish family around our Father’s Table to give thanks for His “peace that passes all understanding” and for His loving provision, not just in the late fall but throughout the year.  I invite you to come forward with Becky and me to place your time, talent and treasure pledge for 2022 on the altar during one of our worship services, and to join the chorus of thankful saints who through the ages have said: “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” (I Chronicles 29:14 KJV)