Happy Thanksgiving to All

[thedrifter]

From Our House To Yours:

Sending every good wish for a Thanksgiving
filled with all Your Favorite things..

Special Thanks and Prayers to Our Troops.

Have a Happy and Safe Thanksgiving!
God Bless
Ellie, Mark, The Alfano Children and Buster

[thedrifter]

A Season of Thanksgiving

When you arrive in the land I am giving you and you harvest your first crops, bring the priest some grain from the first portion of your grain harvest. On the first day after the Sabbath, the priest will lift it up before the Lord so it may be accepted on your behalf. ... This is a permanent law for you, and it must be observed wherever you live. —Leviticus 23:9-11, 14 (NLT)

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others. —Cicero, Pro Plancio, 54 B.C.

As our skepticism about God has increased, the world has grown smaller. What I mean is that our imagination no longer thinks to visit that jeweled city with streets of gold where a glorious being lives, attended by hosts of angels. We have put aside such childishness. We are no longer awed by the one who created somethingness from nothingness, life from dust, hot consciousness from the cold void of space. We know better.

By writing God out of the narrative of life, the narrative itself has withered like a tree deprived of water. We now have a story without a plot, a song with no melody. Life without the awesome majesty of God the Everlasting is lackluster and pointless.

King David the Psalmist, in one of his many effusive moments, wrote:

Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors, and let the King of glory enter.
Who is the King of glory?
The Lord Almighty—he is the King of glory. —Psalm 24:9-10, NLT

The word "glory" has all but vanished from our modern vocabulary, and we are diminished by its loss.

In Psalm 24, David captures the central narrative that is woven through both the Old and New Testaments — the glorious and eternal God has stepped through the ancient gates of the city of man. God has made himself approachable. The glory of God has touched humanity.

You only need to open the newspaper to see that we are not a particularly glorious species. We are selfish, we are vengeful, we are hateful and proud and petty. Glorious? Not by a long shot.

Except in the presence of God. Except through the action of God's grace in us.

When God steps into our presence, his glory bathes us like the sun lights up the moon. We have no beauty, no art, no genius, no goodness that we can claim for our own.

If we have the wisdom to recognize our profound neediness and the humility to accept the staggering generosity of God, we will be driven inevitably to gratitude.

That is the story behind the first-fruits offering in Leviticus. It was a festival meant to educate God's people in gratitude. It reveals the presence of the King of Glory in the smallest details of our lives, a festival that reminds us annually of the unbreakable connection between a magnanimous God and everything that sustains us: food, shelter, clothing, warmth, human companionship, love.

We are in the season of thanksgiving.

These days are not intended as a launching pad to our pre-Christmas shopping. This is not a celebration of autumn or some national obsession with turkey and cranberry jelly.

Thanksgiving is about gratitude. Thanksgiving is about recognizing the glorious presence of God in everyday life. Thanksgiving is about stopping to kneel before the Source of all that is good, to express our gratitude.

If Cicero was right, that gratitude is the parent of every other virtue, we would be wise to search our hearts and ask: Am I grateful? And if so, to whom?

Open up your ancient doors and welcome the King of Glory. Come into his presence and express your gratitude for his good gifts.

This is the season of thanksgiving.

Ellie

[garryh123]

Happy Turkey Day Everyone!

[vfm]

Happy Thanksgiving to all my brother MARINES and their families. And my special thanks to all our MARINES overseas.
SEMPER FI!!!
vfm

[mrbsox]

Some of my (many) thanks go out to EVERYONE, past and present, that have helped make America the best place in the world to live, and kept her colors flying.
Thanks to Jerry for the site, cause as I've stated before, I think I'm a better Marine today, than I was before finding 'leatherneck.com'. Something was missing.
Thanks to my wife, for continuing to put up with my antics (MOUT training), and my working so far from home.

So many more than I have the time to put thoughts into words.
Everyone be safe this season. Watch out for those that you encounter.
****************
Wherever I go,
everyone is a little bit safer because I am there.

Wherever I am,
anyone in need has a friend.

Whenever I return home,
everyone is happy I am there.
****************
Semper Fidelis,
and Happy Holidays

[ggyoung]

Happy thanksgiving to all. When you eat your turkey tomorrow it just of came from my neck of the woods. Here in Sanpete Co. in central Utah. We grow anywere from 4 to7 millon a year. One of my 1st jobs after the Marines was at the turkey prosecening(sp) killing turkeys.

[BOOGIEMAN44]

Happy Thanksgiving To You All, Please Don't Forget Our Men And Women Who Are Still In Harmes Way Making Sure We Still Have Something To Give Thanks For, Amen

[thedrifter]

November 23, 2005, 8:36 a.m. <br />
Shepherding Dinner <br />
Who’s on your table? <br />
By Ed Morrow <br />
<br />
Old MacDonald had a farm. And you can bet that his Thanksgiving dinners featured some of the creatures that no...

[thedrifter]

And the Fair Land
Let's give thanks for America.
Thursday, November 24, 2005 12:01 a.m. EST

Anyone whose labors take him into the far reaches of the country, as ours lately have done, is bound to mark how the years have made the land grow fruitful.

This is indeed a big country, a rich country, in a way no array of figures can measure and so in a way past belief of those who have not seen it. Even those who journey through its Northeastern complex, into the Southern lands, across the central plains and to its Western slopes can only glimpse a measure of the bounty of America.

And a traveler cannot but be struck on his journey by the thought that this country, one day, can be even greater. America, though many know it not, is one of the great underdeveloped countries of the world; what it reaches for exceeds by far what it has grasped.

So the visitor returns thankful for much of what he has seen, and, in spite of everything, an optimist about what his country might be. Yet the visitor, if he is to make an honest report, must also note the air of unease that hangs everywhere.

For the traveler, as travelers have been always, is as much questioned as questioning. And for all the abundance he sees, he finds the questions put to him ask where men may repair for succor from the troubles that beset them.

His countrymen cannot forget the savage face of war. Too often they have been asked to fight in strange and distant places, for no clear purpose they could see and for no accomplishment they can measure. Their spirits are not quieted by the thought that the good and pleasant bounty that surrounds them can be destroyed in an instant by a single bomb. Yet they find no escape, for their survival and comfort now depend on unpredictable strangers in far-off corners of the globe.

How can they turn from melancholy when at home they see young arrayed against old, black against white, neighbor against neighbor, so that they stand in peril of social discord. Or not despair when they see that the cities and countryside are in need of repair, yet find themselves threatened by scarcities of the resources that sustain their way of life. Or when, in the face of these challenges, they turn for leadership to men in high places--only to find those men as frail as any others.

So sometimes the traveler is asked whence will come their succor. What is to preserve their abundance, or even their civility? How can they pass on to their children a nation as strong and free as the one they inherited from their forefathers? How is their country to endure these cruel storms that beset it from without and from within?

Of course the stranger cannot quiet their spirits. For it is true that everywhere men turn their eyes today much of the world has a truly wild and savage hue. No man, if he be truthful, can say that the specter of war is banished. Nor can he say that when men or communities are put upon their own resources they are sure of solace; nor be sure that men of diverse kinds and diverse views can live peaceably together in a time of troubles.

But we can all remind ourselves that the richness of this country was not born in the resources of the earth, though they be plentiful, but in the men that took its measure. For that reminder is everywhere--in the cities, towns, farms, roads, factories, homes, hospitals, schools that spread everywhere over that wilderness.

We can remind ourselves that for all our social discord we yet remain the longest enduring society of free men governing themselves without benefit of kings or dictators. Being so, we are the marvel and the mystery of the world, for that enduring liberty is no less a blessing than the abundance of the earth.

And we might remind ourselves also, that if those men setting out from Delftshaven had been daunted by the troubles they saw around them, then we could not this autumn be thankful for a fair land.

The Wall Street Journal has published this editorial annually since 1961.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Thanksgiving, Unplugged
By Jay D. Homnick
Published 11/23/2005 7:20:35 PM

Only once ever did a man introduce himself to me as bad, and that turned out to be Mr. Mann with a head cold. It seems to be the conceit of enormous swaths of humankind that they number among the good. So much so that when ill befalls their lot, they imagine themselves equipped with evidence to indict God -- if not for malice aforethought, then certainly for negligence. 'Tis scarce indeed to encounter one so schooled in humility that he'd say like Macduff:

"...Did heaven look on
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am.
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls..."

Or like Jonah in the Bible explaining the typhoon that lashed the ship carrying citizens of many nations: "Lift me and place me into the sea and the sea will be silenced from upon you, because I know that it is because of mine [sins] that this great hurricane is upon you." (Jonah 1:12)

It's Thanksgiving and here we stand as a nation, bloodied by the predations of Bin Laden and Zarqawi and the depredations of Katrina, Rita and Wilma, and we wonder what it all means. Macduff again:

"...each new morn
New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
...and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour."

Having suffered somewhat in each of these hurricanes as they visited Miami, I can bear witness to some of those dolorous syllables. Not for me to chastise in random flourishes; I'm no better than anyone else. Yet, after sixteen days in the dark when Wilma scourged our power grids, I can deliver one message with a measure of clarity. We are guilty of a lack of thanksgiving, a dearth of gratefulness, a shortfall of appreciation, for the blessings that God bestows through technology. Even those disposed to thank for their health and wealth and family are apt to dodge their debt of gratitude for the machinery that enhances their life.

Let's start with electricity to power our homes. This was not imported from another galaxy, it was something built into the fabric of our world. Yet it hovered beyond our reach for over five thousand years of recorded history. All the great men of history, all of our ancestors, all the people who brought us to where we are today, did it without the benefit of a heater in winter and an air conditioner in summer. They spent many an exertive hour flailing at frozen trees with hatchets for a few cords of firewood or hacking at frozen lakes to dislodge blocks of ice for cooling.

Our mothers lost so much of their lives in the arduous painstaking tasks of washing dishes and clothing by hand. Without washing machines and dryers, without dishwashers, every speck of grime on a dish or a cloth exacted a toll in strenuous labor. And time, always time, as great lives ticked away with hands elbow-deep in murky water. We are gifted with a great bounty of hours freed from bondage, open for creativity. Pieces of our lives have already experienced their Exodus and their Messiah; no woman should ever again have to lose an afternoon churning butter.

What of refrigerators to store food and enable us to limit the adventure -- and burden -- of food shopping to once-weekly binges instead of daily grinds? How about ovens that cook by flipping a switch and microwaves that reheat in moments? These enhance the flavor of our lives and emancipate our time and energy, all utilizing materials that were provided in nature from its inception but revealed ever so slowly. Not to mention indoor plumbing and water heating.

Transportation is rendered nothing less than miraculous. Indeed the Jewish tradition speaks of miracles that occurred enabling certain characters in the Bible to travel great distances in short times. For instance, it teaches that Abraham's servant got from Israel to Mesopotamia (near the Syria-Iraq border) in one day via supernatural intervention. Yet we can do that trip today by plane in a few hours and by car within a day. What was once a miracle is now natural and everyday. And we have not even begun to discuss the communication of human voices and images through radio, television, telephones and the Internet.

Someone needs to write a special prayer thanking the Creator for opening our eyes to the secrets that He planted in the world to be discovered in our own era: the era of prophecy fulfilled, the epoch of "a new heaven and a new earth". The next time a light bulb flickers or a tire goes flat, don't sit there and cuss, but close your eyes and reflect on the Fate that chose you to have these wonderful things that all of our noble ancestors did not. Perhaps then we will be spared the more violent reminders by the likes of Zarqawi and his brothers, Katrina and her sisters, that electricity and oil are ours by grace, not desert.

Jay D. Homnick is a columnist for JewishWorldReview.com and a contributor to the Reform Club.

Ellie

[Ed Palmer]

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v733/Ed15Palmer/qctg3.gif



Have a happy turkey day

[thedrifter]

Thanksgiving
By Tony Snow
Nov 24, 2005

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- If there's a theme to Thanksgiving, it's humility.

Think back. When the earliest American settlers surveyed the rough and resplendent land around them, they could have cursed their fates. They could have groused about the raging rivers and dense dark forests, or bemoaned the loved ones claimed by harsh weather, illness, hunger or simple loneliness. They could have thought of the comforts they left behind.

Instead, they gave thanks. They gave thanks for the family and friends who transformed a wilderness into home. They gave thanks for their freedom.

It says something about our national unselfishness that the first men and women who fled to our shores didn't take credit for taming the chill winds and angry beasts. They thanked God for helping them turn a jagged, thicket-strewn continent into an idyll called America. Indeed, if you sift through the layers of history, you find something stronger than human will at America's foundation. You find faith.

Each new wave of Americans, even those brought here in chains, has added new strength to the dream. They have done so in small but powerful ways: They came not to make history, but merely to establish their own heritage of freedom and prosperity.

Today, after a century of challenges from abroad, we can boast of the world's most vibrant economy, the strongest and most responsible military, and a political system in which parties transfer power without bloodshed or ill will.

Few of us bother to think about such things because we take greatness for granted. We tend to devote Thanksgiving to the five Fs: family, friends, food, faith -- and football.

That's certainly the case in our household. Over the years, the holiday has migrated from novelty into tradition. When my wife and I hosted our first invitational Thanksgiving many years ago, we were tyros. We invited the couple from across the street. They were as good as parents to our firstborn, and they dote over her still.

I made a great show of hovering over the turkey. I oiled it, brushed it, basted it, baked it just the right amount of time -- even crafted a lovely tinfoil tent. Then I gathered everyone close by for the ceremonial carving.

The knife slipped easily through the gorgeous brown skin. But as I sliced deeper, the blade became wedged in the beast. I tugged as if trying to extract Excalibur. In desperation, I cracked open the breastbone in the manner of a heart surgeon. The bird didn't expel a geyser of fragrant warm steam, as expected -- just a puff of frosty air. The inside looked like a geode: pink, with glinting stalactites of ice jutting from the cavities.

Our guests sat motionless, jaws slack. They bravely offered to nibble cooked slivers from the far edges of the fowl. All fell funereally still, until my wife erupted into hysterical laughter. After the rest of us stopped howling, we ordered pizza and gave fervent thanks. In the process, I learned a valuable lesson: Thaw the turkey before putting it in the oven.

Since then, we have hosted gatherings as small as six and large as 20. I'll still count my blessings, one-by-one as I look around the table. Best of all, my kids can now say grace.

This is as it should be. As we age, Thanksgiving becomes more dear. It affirms the primacy of important things. It inserts perspective into a world gone both angry and mad.

In modern Washington, people seem far more interested in collecting grievances than praising God. They nurse their hatreds as carefully as they tend their lawns, and as they wage war against their foes, they forget the treasures waiting for them at home.

Most people are born to lives of anonymous toil. Only a blessed few appear in history-book indices. Yet every one of us has a chance to influence the course of events. All we need to do is pass on a reverence for goodness and decency.

In this regard, Thanksgiving is the corniest of all imaginable celebrations. Recall the theme of humility: The holiday makes no special provision for presidents or celebrities. It does not worship government as an instrument of virtue. It exalts simple things, such as families and friends, and it inspires us to extend a hand to souls who have no food, shelter or companionship. The best blessings, after all, are ones we can share.

On Thanksgiving, most of us are lucky enough to revel in familial mayhem -- the din of children, the clatter of dishes, the sight of grown men snoring before a roaring TV set. We can praise higher powers without being tarred as extremists. But perhaps best of all, we can give thanks for the fact that we live in a nation that saw fit to create such an observance in the first place.

Ellie

[BigPhil]

Happy Thanksgiving to all.
Semper Fi.
BigPhil