A Bright—not Black—Friday

Last year’s Thanksgiving made me dig deep to hitch up a smile. Both my children celebrated the holiday away from my husband and me for the first time in their lives—my daughter with her in-laws in Texas and my son with his Marine unit in Afghanistan. Tough year.

Thanksgiving is our gig. We always host the feast at our house with upwards of twenty family members and friends attending. We love Thanksgiving. It’s all about food and fellowship. No gifts, no fancy outfits, no themed decorations. Just our favorite peeps and us.

In 2019, we hosted fifteen guests. That Thursday, they kept my husband and me entertained from early morning until late in the evening. They did such a stellar job that we almost forgot our kids weren’t with us. Almost. We thanked God when each of them FaceTimed us.

Then came Friday. Black Friday. We’re not the kind of folks who elbow our way through desperate shoppers to get the best deals on the planet. Our Friday-after-Thanksgiving tradition is to decorate the house for Christmas. This family affair is loads of fun with lots of festive music, hot chocolate, and gift wrap. But in 2019, Black Friday took on a whole new meaning for us. We discovered there was no one to run the holiday playlist, squirt whipped cream all over the kitchen, or sit with me on the floor in front of the fire to wrap packages. What a downer.

Then came 2020—the year everyone despises and can’t wait to end. My husband and I have a lot to be thankful for this year. We’re healthy, along with all our family members. We have a roof over our heads and food on the table. We live in a country where we’re free to worship as we please. And best of all . . . our kids are home. In fact, I can hear them arguing about whose holiday playlist is better. A typical Black Friday. Or, should I say, “Bright Friday?”

What is your best Black Friday memory?

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever.”
— 1 Chronicles 16:34

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