The Cactus of Thanksgiving

A couple years back, a friend of mine gave me a flowering cactus, to replace a treasured houseplant that just had not been able to survive my black thumb. She assured me that even I could keep this gem from dying.

Turns out she was right. It's still alive. Even better, it's blooming! Which took me by surprise, partly because I thought it was a Christmas Cactus (she tells me it is actually a Thanksgiving Cactus), and partly because in the last two years, it really hasn't bloomed before. Oh, sure, it has had buds a couple of times. One or two even opened. However, even a garden gnome could see that wasn't all it was capable of.

It's truly blooming now, though, and it looks great. I have to admit, I might have missed it. It's on top of the fridge - not a spot I look at often. Thank God it's so bright, bold, and obvious.

Now, being a black thumb, I'm not really sure why this time is different. It's living environment didn't really change. It's lived on top of my fridge for a while, getting moderate sunlight through the patio door. The amount of water hasn't been changed. The temperature inside is pretty much the same year-round, excepting that we turn the heater down at nights for bed, so winter/fall nights are cooler. Despite all that same-ness, the plant is blooming now, when it hadn't before. So, I know SOMETHING changed. Something indefinable, invisible, and critical. Somehow, now, the plant is finally ready to bloom. God only knows why.

GOD only knows why.

I don't really have to tell you why I thought this was worth a spot here, on this blog, do I? The plant could be me. It could represent my whole life, or just one certain area of it. The plant could be my family, blooming with understanding and compassion. The plant could be my friends, coming into bloom in their jobs and relationships. The plant could be our faith maturing and blooming over time.

I know what it means to me today. Today it is one part of my life, the place where I needed the most encouragement. Chances are, something in your life is like this plant, too.

You're afraid it might be dead or dying. Look again. It isn't. You might just have the wrong name for it, or be expecting it in the wrong season. It's surviving, despite the odds. In fact, it's growing, maturing... even if it's not truly thriving. 

If you think back, you might even remember a time when it sent out little test buds just to remind you that it was alive. A part of your life. Put there by God. Not to taunt and torment you, but to help you have hope. To remind you to look, wait, watch. Because each and every day, your cactus is getting closer to a full, bursting bloom!

Gardeners and farmers understand patience better than just about anyone on earth. Folks like me...well, we need a reminder every now-and-then. I am thankful that God knows just when to send them.

The Gift of Time

I need to tell you something. Do you have a moment?

You might not like what you hear. Will you listen anyway?

Are you still there?

Okay...here it is...

I'm not planning on giving gifts this year for Christmas. Not to anyone over the age of 16. (Okay, 10, really, because there's really only three people I can think of in my life between 10 and 16, and I don't really know them well enough for personal gifts). 

So. Not buying Christmas gifts for anyone over the age of 10, then. 

How do you feel about that?

Did you - just for a moment - feel a little "gypped?" (Well? How would you spell it?)

Why? What did I give you last year? Can you even remember? Did that gift that I spent time thinking about, shopping for, wrapping, and delivering actually mean so very much to you?

I doubt it. Not because I think you are ungrateful, but because I can't really remember what I gave most of you. 

What I do remember is the time we've spent together this year. 

I've enjoyed helping you purge your closet. Getting out with you. Watching your kids so you could get out. Sharing a cup of coffee, a glass of wine, a plate of nachos, a slice of cheesecake. Skyping with you. Praying with you. Sitting with you at soccer games. Solving a murder. Watching a movie. Trying new recipes. Trying sushi. Trading books. Trading stories. Going to a play. Texting you from the airport. Sharing your grill. Driving with you to doctor's appointments and oil changes. Walking on the beach. Watching fireworks. Watching the rain. Walking and talking. Talking about walking. Planning and dreaming, and sharing life.

I can't find a gift that expresses what you mean to me. And this year I'm not going to try. I'm choosing to change Christmas. 

I hope you won't think of me as a Scrooge. I'm not doing this to pinch pennies, although, yes, in these lean times, the pennies do matter. But making smarter choices with my money this year has helped me really realize that you enjoyed that candle or box of candy or bottle of soap mainly because of what it represented. Yes, my friend, I know you do - in fact - believe it is the thought that counts.

I'm telling you this now, because I'd like you to take me off your Christmas shopping list as well. Please. I don't want gifts. This year, for Christmas, I'd like to focus on the time we can spend together. Instead of spending time shopping and wrapping, let's spend that time visiting together. Let me help you wrap your kids' gifts or hang your lights. Come to my place and watch a movie or have some cocoa. Let's enjoy each other.

Let's make Christmas as much about people and relationships as Thanksgiving is about food. After all, isn't that what God intended with his great gift to us? Jesus came so that we could be welcomed into Heaven, into God's home. The very best gift you could give me would be to visit my home. I'd love to have you! If that doesn't work, send me a card. Just a card. Tell me about you and your life since last we talked. 

Don't worry... I'm not swearing off shopping. Heavens no! I plan to spoil you completely rotten for your birthday. After all, that's the day God gave you to the world!  ;-)