I can see them in my mind.  Men–worn and thin–browned by their daily toil beneath the hot sun.  Women–their hands raw from gleaning the last piece of grain from a heavy stalk.  Children–kneeling in thanksgiving before a god who doesn’t exist–hoping they’ll have enough food to eat next month.
I leaf through magazines considering my family’s Thanksgiving meal, but am distracted by the article about Pongal, southern India’s harvest festival.  I try to imagine a celebration that honors the sun and the rain.  I try to envision emaciated cattle adorned in bright colors as if they deserve more honor than the God-man who died reddened by his own blood.  I try to grasp what it means to forget that He is the One who offers a bounty of goodness to His children.
Pausing, I am humbled.  I realize I forget His goodness every day.  In the mid-life muddle of  raising a family, I get caught up somewhere between dishes and driving lessons and begin to worry about children…finances…and tomorrow’s dinner menu.
And I’m reminded that even when I forget Him, I am not forgotten.  My hope is sure because my God has existed eternally.  Friend, He invites us to an everlasting table–a feast of matchless blessing.  Won’t you join me?
Scripture for Reflection

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him!  Psalm 34:8 NLT