MARTHA STEWART I AM NOT

DAY 2
Today I am thankful that I am not Martha Stewart. I have never had the inclination or desire to be her. I am fixing Thanksgiving Dinner and it will not be served out of the pan. We do use forks and even knives, since it is easier to butter your roll with a knife instead of a spoon. Caleb and Steven will be drinking out of a bottle; the other guests will use glasses. The food will be the centerpiece, believe me it will cover the table. We will TIVO the football game, so we can watch the Lions lose again. Everyone will eat until they are stuffed, complain when I suggest we go for a walk, and enjoy a piece of pie, cheesecake or a turkey sandwich as soon as the dishes are washed.
By the way, I am taking reservations. There is always room for another friend at the table.

My daughter-in-law sent the following article to me. I hope she appreciates the glaring differences in Martha and me. Enjoy the article. Don’t forget to leave comments on what you are thankful for this season.

For those of you who are coming to my place for Thanksgiving dinner --Martha Stewart ain't gonna be there! Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised.

Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've made a few small changes: Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I got the kids involved in the decorating by having them trackin colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas. Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen Turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that"passing the rolls" is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread. Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice of 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this year. She probably won't come next year either.

I am thankful.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

FOLLOW ME BUT DON'T STEP IN IT

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.

Saturday morning, armed with a plastic bag and trowel, I began the highly anticipated job of picking up what the dog had left behind. Wait, that’s not very spiritual. Let me begin again.

As I prayerfully began the blessed job of cleaning up the back yard; yeah, right!!

Okay, here’s what really happened. Our beautiful new maple tree was going to finally be delivered and planted. So that the landscapers wouldn’t accidently step in a pile of dog dung (biblical word), I decided it would be a great idea to clean up the back yard. Actually, I perform this task a couple of times every week but this was the first time I have ever had God teach me a lesson during this distasteful activity. I have to confess the aroma makes it a little difficult to meditate extensively on spiritual things.

I walked across the lovely expanse of green lawn, but my eyes were always watching where I stepped. Each unsightly pile was scooped up and put in the bag leaving the backyard a safe and clean place once again.

Sometimes my life seems like a lovely landscape as I invite my friends to “Follow me as I follow Christ.” However, if it were not for the Lord clearing the path and picking up the piles of my faults and failures, would my friends enjoy the journey or would they become burdened with all the muck and mire I so carelessly leave behind. Instead of love, do they find gossip and judgment? Sometimes the pile of murmuring and complaining hides the joy of the Lord. Do I project anxiousness instead of peace; impatience rather than longsuffering? Not to mention gentleness, goodness and faith are too often covered with harsh words, selfishness, and fear. The piles of willfulness and lack of discipline rather than meekness and self-control are usually so big no one could accidently step in them.

Lord thank you for clearing the path for those who walk behind me. Replace all the things I leave with the fruit of your Spirit.