On Being Thankful

 

 By G. E. Shuman       

 

This year November was a month of recuperation, of settling in, of staying put, and of thinking thoughts of the soon-coming winter, for me. Any spare time in October was spent doing the chores which make November’s ‘settling in’ possible, like getting air conditioners put away, leaky doors fixed, and windows locked up tight in this hundred-plus year-old home of ours.

Leaves from our two huge maples are faithful to cover the lawn each autumn, and are blown or raked away, followed by the rakes, themselves, being put away and replaced by snow shovels under the carport. Each year I spend some time making sure the snow blower still starts, and is greased up, fueled up, and ready for the weather to come. I don’t mind doing these chores that make our home as efficient and comfortable as possible when the harsh weather really hits.

 I get a bit contemplative at this tucked-in holiday season, especially, it seems, in the past few years. This old house is not as full of family and their belongings as it once was. Sometimes that is a difficult thing for me to think about.

I tend to be something of a poor sleeper and am thankful for the chance to fill some late evening hours writing to you, dear readers. So, thank you for easing those hours, and for the chance to express a few thoughts that many of us ‘northerners,’ even though we may be strangers, likely share.

Even now, as I sit here in silence, it is cold outside the windows of this house on the hill, and it is very dark out there. The winds of one more late fall evening beat against the aging glass panes, but fortunately, those winds have always stayed on the outside of this place. For this I am thankful. Indeed, it is quite warm in here, and cozy, tonight. The furnace works well, and there is enough fuel.

 All this contemplation is not a sad thing to me, but is, sometimes, a chance for reflection on the things my wife and I have done this year, and, reaching back further, the things we have done throughout all the years that we have lived in this place. (Obviously, without her, there would be no ‘we,’ and likely, by now, not even a ‘me.’) We were so blessed to raise five tremendously talented children in this old place, for which I am, truly, thankful. Those five amazing people are as diverse as any five children could ever be, and I would do anything at all to help any one of them.

I have been, truly and unquestionably, very blessed. Having a beautiful, faithful, Christian wife, wonderful children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and a warm home to occasionally share with them all makes for quite a life. What more could a man ask for?

 I am not at all sure why the words that have assembled on my computer screen this evening have done so as they have. When I write, that is often the case. I think, tonight, it is just because I cannot help but tell you that I am very thankful for my life, and for the people in it; for what I have, and for what I have had. I hope you feel the same way about your life, too.

Unless you are a member of my family, or of my small group of friends, I do not know anything about your beliefs. In any case, I will let you know mine. I believe very much in God, in His Son Jesus, in our nation, and in family. I also believe it is important to recognize and to be grateful for all that we have in the overflowing cornucopia of a country that we share, especially in this contemplative, settled-in time of year.

 I hope you will take a few minutes, as the holidays approach, not to stop and smell the roses, as there are few roses outside right now, but to stop and sense the fullness of what your life is, and of what you have experienced, so far. And, in a word, to be thankful.  If you express your thankfulness in a prayer, He really will listen.

 Have a blessed and happy Thanksgiving!

 

A Most Unusual Day

 

By G. E. Shuman

 

This most unusual day, of which I am about to tell you, happened not long ago. In fact, I’ll tell you exactly when. It’s no secret, and, although it won’t mean a great deal, or add much to the story, I think you should know when it was. That way, if someone asks you when George’s most unusual day was, (they won’t,) you can tell them.

The exact day was October 18th of this year. It was a Friday, as I recall, but ‘recalling’ is something I’m not known for doing well; at least not lately. October 18^th of this year was a day like many others; at least it started out that way and was proceeding that way… right up to the point that it wasn’t. Our daughter, Emily, had been visiting with our new grandson, and had left less than an hour before that point when it was no longer a day like many others.

The afternoon was progressing along just swimmingly, as they used to say. Lorna was watching her fav ‘chick’ type, or more like ‘grandma-chick’ type TV show, (something about birthing babies, midwives, and such,) and “I don’t know nothin’ about birthin’ no babies,” as someone else once said.

I mentioned to Lorna that I was going to go take Babi out for a ride. Babi is my antique VW, (It’s the blue and white one you may have seen around town.) I’m quite sure she replied with an ‘okay’. (Lorna, not Babi.) Anyway, within minutes I had walked down our driveway and onto the sidewalk in front of our old house. I do remember bending over to straighten up a wind-blown political sign on the lawn, (Thanks Michael B.) and then straightened myself back up, probably too quickly, and became dizzy in the process.

Now comes the unusual-day part. You see, I was suddenly seeing double as I continued down the two sidewalks that were usually one. I crossed the street to the garage where my VW sleeps and, even though there were now four garage doors instead of two, as there used to be, I pressed the remote that was in my hand and opened at least one of those doors. I then actually walked to the car door, unlocked it, opened it, and stood there looking at the ‘two’ Volkswagens I now seemed to own. (Yes, I would love to have two, but not that way, I somehow reasoned.) 

You know, I really wanted to get in the car and take it for a ride, but somehow came to my double-visioned senses enough to realize I probably shouldn’t do that. With this decision I shut the car door, then the garage door, and headed back across the street toward the house.

Lorna has mentioned that God must have been there with me in those moments, as, by this time, I was, for some reason, dragging my right leg and foot through the fallen leaves on the walk. “Now that’s strange,” I thought, as I watched my foot plow through the leaves. I really had no thoughts of fear or trepidation as I walked, (At that point I probably couldn’t have even spelled trepidation if I had wanted to,) and, in fact, dropped the remote in the leaves, looked around for it, and found it, before I headed up the steep driveway to the back door of the house.

As Lorna sometimes relates all of this to a friend or relative, she always mentions that God Himself must have held my hand as I went up that driveway. Indeed, He might have, as I have little memory of it. If I had passed out, out there I would have been there for some time. After all, I had told Lorna that I would be going out with Babi. She wouldn’t have expected me back for a while. I also didn’t have my phone, even though I wasn’t thinking about that either at the time.

I did get to the back door, opened it, and evidently, told my dear wife that I thought I was having a stroke, which was exactly what was happening. Then, with lots of love, clear thinking, and a 911 call, Lorna saved my life. She really did. Before the ambulance even arrived, I had lost consciousness several times and was unable to speak or walk. I am still sorry for scaring her so.

Soon I was in the hospital and awoke with most of my family encircling my bed. My first thought at that time was something like ‘Oh crap, they’re all here… this must be it.’  Still, honestly, I wasn’t the least bit afraid. In fact, I remember feeling a genuinely great peace. It was strange to me that all these wonderful, supportive people seemed so worried.

To make this story a bit shorter, let me just say that, at this writing I simply have everything back, which, to me and my family, is a miracle, or the result of many miracles. I had received a powerful ‘clot-busting’ medication in time and was soon back to whatever level of normalcy I had once had. (Sorry, this is all there ever was.)

God has been incredibly good to me, and I learned at least three things that most unusual day. I hope I never forget them.

Firstly, if we are saved; if our hearts are right with God, there is no need to fear the future, or even death. You have heard that before, but it really is true.

Secondly, we have no promise of tomorrow, so today must be lived, and appreciated, passionately.

Thirdly, you may have the second-best spouse and family in the world, but I have the best.