Johnny’s pretty confused, I think. He brought home all of his Thanksgiving paraphernalia from third grade–the placemat, the turkey hat, the turkey cookie. A worksheet asked, What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? “Pizza” was Johnny’s response.
We celebrated Thanksgiving in Tanzania, of course. But it was never on a Thursday and there were no fall leaves or parades on television or feasts at school. Thanksgiving was just a normal school day and our mission team would celebrate it on Saturday or Sunday. We would eat traditional Thanksgiving foods, but I don’t know if Johnny picked up on that. After all, we met monthly with our mission team, so eating chicken and mashed potatoes in November probably didn’t stand out to him.
For several years, our team chipped in to buy a turkey, which cost over $100. We eventually gave up and in recent years, roasted a bunch of chickens instead. I would dutifully buy a giant Tanzanian pumpkin which had to be hacked open with a machete. Cooking down the pumpkin and making the crust from scratch was an all-day affair.
This year, my eyes bugged out of my face when I saw turkeys on sale for $7.00. I resisted the temptation to announce it to the strangers around me, Did you see these turkey prices? This is incredible! I had to remind myself that this is normal for everyone, and I am working hard to avoid being weird. I am not hosting Thanksgiving this year so I didn’t need to buy a turkey, but I bought one anyway, just because I could.
And now I’m writing this from my childhood bedroom, spending Thanksgiving with my family (just a few of them, don’t worry). We will eat turkey and homemade cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie that came from Costco and did not take 5 hours to make. The trees outside are red and yellow and the air is fall-crisp. Today my aunt and my mom and my girls will make dozens of peanut butter bon bons. For years, I used to dream about these Thanksgivings. And now I’m here, in it. It is both simultaneously wonderful and yet marred a pandemic and by culture shock and by the fact that my heart will forever be divided between two worlds.
I keep coming back to John Piper’s description that as Christian exiles in this world, we live with brokenhearted joy. We are not in heaven yet and we won’t find it on earth, so we all, in some respect, live divided between two worlds. How glorious that even in the midst of a broken heart, we can find joy. In all things.
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I am awed by your description of how you tried to keep Thanksgiving in Tanzania. You must be overwhelmed to again be in the USA where food is plentiful and less laborious to prepare. I enjoyed your last comment. I shook my head as I realized the fact that we are in transition to another heavenly realm where all is full joy! John Piper’s statement is profound. As Chrisitans we are exiles in this world and live with broken hearted joy. We are not in heaven yet, and we won’t find it in on earth, so we in all respects live divided between two worlds.”
May God bless you and your family as you acclimate to the US as well as accept the broken hearted joy that this earth gives.
Carrie
And we came back to the mission field just before Thanksgiving, but wouldn’t have been able to spend it together in the USA anyway as my parents were exposed to COVID and in 2 weeks quarantine! So I’m a world away and homesick, but realize it’s not perfect anywhere until we’re Home.