Thanksgiving

This is one of my favorite portraits of Lincoln. It was taken by Alexander Gardner, and there is something about it that just seems different than any of his other portraits as president. There is something about his expression that seems much more human, less posed; you can see a tiredness, but also kindness, compassion, humor, you can tell he has experienced trials, but has not become embittered. 

That is why it seems so fitting that, in 1863, Lincoln was the president to proclaim Thanksgiving a national holiday. The United States was in the middle of the only civil war it would ever (hopefully) experience. Americans were killing each other by the thousands (7,000 died in the first twenty minutes of the battle at Antietam), others were dying from the disease and deprivation engendered by war. His eleven year old son, Willie, had been a victim, probably of typhoid fever, only the year before.  His wife, who was often a source of great concern for Lincoln, was so distraught at the death of the boy that it was feared she was finally losing her sanity. The country had divided immediately upon his election, and his Emancipation Proclamation, issued in January of that year, further divided sentiments and alienated even many Northerners. In short, he had many trials, both personal and public. Yet, even in the midst of all of this, he chose to acknowledge the blessings of God, both on himself and his country. This, to me, is what the true idea of Thanksgiving is-kind of like Jeffrey R. Holland writes at the end of Shepherd's, Why This Jubilee? (one of the most fabulous books ever written. Seriously. Anyway...). Speaking of Simeon, who met Mary and Joseph in the temple as they were going to offer a sacrifice of doves (the substitute allowed for those who were too poor to afford a lamb, which tells you of the circumstances in which Mary and Joseph found themselves as they became not only first time parents, but parents to the savior of all mankind-it makes you stop and think about giving thanks, trials, blessings and the true meaning of all of it) after the birth of Jesus. Elder Holland writes that, "not in the absence of hard days and long years but because of them..." that Simeon was able to look upon the Christ child and rejoice.  I particularly love that phrase. Hard days can become long years, there is no denying that. But throughout even those hard years (or even those difficult first months of living away from home for the first time) are moments which can be seen glimpses of Heavenly Father's love for us. 
Einstein once said that there are two ways to look at the world, one is that nothing is a miracle, the other is that everything is a miracle. It makes me think of Emerson's essay on nature; he discusses how we really take the beauty of it for granted because it is always visible to us. Yet, he writes, "If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown!" Life is hard, but it is harder when we refuse to acknowledge the blessings we do have, even if we think they aren't enough.
If everything is a miracle, as Einstein suggests, then that includes trials. I'm not speaking from a lofty point of success when I say this, because I still would rather avoid difficult things if at all humanly possible. But, in the past few months I have seen that trials are interesting things-they aren't fun but they force us to do things we didn't think we could. It is like one of the general authorities said, when relating the story of Abraham and Isaac; Abraham was asked to do the unthinkable-to sacrifice his beloved son, the child he had been promised after years of struggle, the child through whom he had been promised multitudes of posterity. I can only imagine how I would have responded, after all, it probably seemed as if the Lord were reneging on His promises, something we've been taught is impossible if we fulfill our end of the bargain, which, I dare say, Abraham was doing. But, he explained, the Lord knew all along what Abraham would do, so why was he made to endure such an agonizing experience? Because Abraham needed to learn something about Abraham. C.S. Lewis wrote that within each of us is the potential to become gods and goddesses. But to see that potential, we must learn things about ourselves that we didn't think were possible. And often, the only way to do that is through trials. He also wrote (speaking from vast personal experience), "Pain hurts, but you you learn." It is as simple and as difficult as that. 
So, even though it doesn't seem natural (and actually, I don't think it is natural, to be honest. That is why I'm still having difficulties learning this particular lesson...), even the hard things are signs that Heavenly Father wants what is best for us. I remember one particularly hard day I was thinking things over, wondering what I was doing wrong that made it necessary for me to have to learn so many things the hard way. Why I was so stubborn that I continually set myself up for having to learn lessons in the most difficult manner. Then I had the thought-there is no easy way to learn some things. As funny as it sounds, that little epiphany has made a big difference. Because Heavenly Father loves us, He wants us to see ourselves as He sees us, to see what we have the potential to do and become. Often, the only way to show us, to teach us what we have within ourselves, that which He values the most in us, we have to learn hard lessons. 
But, it is like Elder Holland writes, "'You can't separate Bethlehem from Gethsemane or the hasty flight into Egypt from the slow journey to the summit of Calvary. It's of one piece. It is a single plan. It considers 'the fall and rising again of many in Israel,' but always in that order. Christmas is joyful not because it is a season or decade or lifetime without pain and privation, but precisely because life does hold those moments for us. And that baby, my son, my own beloved and Only Begotten Son in the flesh, born 'away in a manger, [with] no crib for his bed,' makes all the difference in the world, all the difference in time and eternity, all the difference everywhere, worlds without number, a lot farther than your eye can see.'"    
That is why I think Lincoln was the perfect man to set aside a day of thanksgiving. He knew well of the 'pain and privations' life can hold for us. Yet, he also knew of the love of Heavenly Father, blessing us both with the abundance of wonderful things in this life as well as the trials which force us to grow in ways we never thought possible. So, as I've gotten older I've come to love Thanksgiving and Christmas for very different reasons than when I was young. I apologize for the preachiness of this post, but Thanksgiving, this year in particular, has come to hold a place in my heart, and a meaning that doesn't have much to do with the food, or even the history. (I know, right? Kind of shocking, isn't it?) I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, with lots of love, friendship and good food, and that the Christmas season will be filled with more of the same. 

(P.S.-I don't know why, but for some reason, blogspot is being a bit difficult and will not let me leave comments. It is very frustrating. But I'm grateful, even for that trial....sort of....but it is still irritating. So I'm sorry I haven't been leaving comments (I've tried, believe me), but thanks everyone for your kind comments, and I do enjoy reading your blogs. Maybe one of these days blogspot will decide to let me leave that in a comment.....)