Gobble, gobble, gobble

As I'm sitting here, grossly full from a huge Thanksgiving dinner reading all the comments by my Facebook friends talking about how they've over-eaten today as well, I can't help but wonder... what is the purpose of the overly excessive meal that has become a tradition for American families on this one day?
Yes I know the holiday is in remembrance of the first meal by the Pilgrims in their new land shared with the Indians, but what we do on this holiday is nothing like what they did on that day.
They may have sat at a dinner table with their friends and family, but they didn't have turkey, they didn't gorge themselves on sugar-filled and sugar-topped pies and sweets and they surely would not have had so much food that they were able to eat left-overs continually for the next week.
We had so much food tonight at my family's Thanksgiving meal that I could not even fit a spoonful of everything on my plate in one go around.
I always find it funny that after having filled our bellies with so much food that we're almost unable to move, we always instigate some type of entertainment provided by the children. We sit on the soft sofas, barely awake from too much turkey while the girls sing and dance and cheer, hoping that some of their activity might rub off on our depleted metabolisms.
I always regretfully end up sinking into my chair with the regretful thought, "Why did I just do that to myself?"
Why do we do that? If we really want to celebrate the intentions of our fore-fathers it seems it may be more appropriate for us to go plow a field or build a barn.
I'm just so thankful that at least one real tradition has survived from our ancestors. Check any history book and you'll find that after the Pilgrims and Indians shared a meal, the men cleared the table and washed the dishes while the women went to Walmart to go Christmas shopping!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Phone call to God

Day one on Saturday, coming home to an empty house was kinda nice. My children and CJ are out of town, so it was refreshing on Saturday to be able to sleep and try to recuperate from my jet lag.
Sunday morning rolled around a little bittersweet. In my still sorta asleep and not quite yet woken up phase, I kept waiting for my girls to come bouncing into my bed begging for breakfast before getting ready and going to church together. The patter of their feet never came.
I kept myself busy on Sunday afternoon catching up on email and other tedious chores that required my attention and kept me from drifting into an emotional state.
Now it's Monday and I'm starting to wonder if Thursday will ever get here?
I had to literally force myself not to cry when my girls called today from Knoxville where they're staying with CJ's mom.
"I miss you Mommy!" Miá said sweetly.
Ugh...
That lump in my throat was a good thing that kept me from being able to wail.
Then I started to wonder if that's how God feels when His children go away from Him. Do you think God gets emotional over those whom He loves so much, yet they never call him or talk to him in prayer? I bet He misses us when we wander far away from Him, and He desperately wants us to stay close to Him.
I know it says in the Bible that Jesus wept. He knows the pain of sadness and lonliness and heart break. He knows how parents feel when their children are a long distance away. After all, He is the father of all fathers.
Have you called your Father lately? I bet He'd love to hear your voice.