Not just the leftovers: giving thanks where it’s due

Thanksgiving was a big deal at my house. My mother, known to throw down a dinner party or two, spent days preparing. Things came out of her oven to make a growing boy cry: pies, rolls, turkey that looked like it had been roasted by Betty Crocker.

Waiting was agony.

But then suddenly, it was time. We swarmed to the table, some more politely than others, and attempted to act civilized during the prayer while plotting to get the biggest slice of white meat before anyone else.

That’s when it happened: my mother, who must have been delirious from her baking frenzy, smiled and said, “Why don’t we go around the table before we eat and say what we’re thankful for!”

Did she just say “before we eat?”

I tried to think, but my mind was a big mashed potato mound. What could I be thankful for when the gravy was congealing with each second?

Time was of the essence. It had to be something efficient, something that left little room for discussion.

“Family,” I said when it was my turn. The word landed in the middle of the table, and no one said anything. I wondered if I had chosen unwisely. Maybe I should have said God. God is a safer bet, I should have known that. When in doubt, say ‘God.’

My mother smiled. My dad nodded. “I love you too, Sweetie,” Mom said and handed me a roll. I’d done it! Or had I? Sure, I got my turkey faster. The gravy poured over my mashed potatoes like melted butter – but thankfulness? That was what I threw in to make my mother happy and ensure I got my pick of the pies.

It’s like that with me and God sometimes. I can be so consumed with my own desires, ambitions, and goals I hardly take time to slow down and consider anything but my own interests.

Prayer becomes something I toss out there when I really need something. Bible reading gets pushed aside for “when I have time.” Praise, thankfulness, and gratitude are reserved for the red-letter days, after my belly is full of pie.

It’s like it’s Thanksgiving, and I haven’t invited God to the table. Sure, I’ve saved some – the hard bits around the stuffing pan and the parts of the green bean casserole where the onions have gone soft. I’ve saved him leftovers, when there were any.

Maybe you can relate. You give the best of yourself to your career, making rank, passing that course, keeping the family happy, your volunteer work … everything but your spiritual life. God gets your leftovers.

One of these days, you think, you’ll get your act together. You’ll get back to church, or crack open the New Testament you picked up at some in-processing table. You’ll see your chaplain. But the week ends, with nothing left but the parts you don’t think God would want anyway.

The Bible tells us this: Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things (the job, the family, the real needs you have), will be added unto you. That’s a promise to those of us who are tempted to make God an afterthought. If we put him first, if we make room for him at the table, if we give him the very best of ourselves, he will take care of the rest.

Try this today: give God your first five minutes. If you have a habit of praying, pray for five minutes. Invite God to be first in your life again. Ask for help in managing priorities and paying attention to what really matters in life. Thank God for waiting.

If you’re more comfortable reading, try the Psalms. Read through one and think about it. Can you thank God for something you read, or ask for help in an area? Tell him, just like he’s at the table with you.

Consider giving God the first day of your week. Spending time in the community of other believers is powerful; it resets your focus and reminds you of your total dependence on God for everything. You will find more joy and peace than you could ever muster on your own, and it will overflow into all areas of your life. God promises it, and God will do it.

This week, as you heat up the mashed potatoes and lick out the gravy bowl, consider: are you giving God your leftovers? Maybe it’s time to put him first.