Gather at the place
the Lord chooses.
(Deuteronomy 14:23)
Dear Priscilla,
That’s how the ancient people of God gathered for Thanksgiving: “You shall gather at the place the Lord chooses to eat of your grain and drink of your wine and eat of your flock.” It appears, this year, the Lord has chosen that old beat-up beach house in Mission Beach for our Thanksgiving gathering.
I’m so excited you and Abby are going to make the journey. It looks like the whole family—uncles and aunts and cousins, all sixteen of us will gather together for Thanksgiving.
There is something magical about your first Thanksgiving home from college. I remember gazing in amazement at your mother when she came home from college for Thanksgiving. I can’t find a word to describe it; maybe, “sublime.” Not the best word, but the best I can come up with. You left home for Baylor as the teenage daughter of your parents; but, now you come back as your own person.
If Papa tears up, don’t make fun. It has to do with “sublime.” Instead of making fun, let’s have fun. For example, ask me anything about what you have learned and see if I know the answer (excluding computer science). If you stump me, I’ll owe you an ice cream cone, okay?
Love
Papa
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