thanksgiving family traditions

i had forgotten what playing games with my family is like.

LOUD

not actually sure that even accurately describes the scene. we're all talking. we're all competitive. we hate losing. we're impatient. we all have opinions, which oddly enough rarely have anything to do with the game. in fact i'm not sure how much attention we are paying to any one thing considering we are focusing on the next word to play in Scrabble that will earn both a triple score and block the next player, "encouraging", in our ever so subtle way, the next person to hurry up and take their turn, and espousing what we not only think but know to be true on Kelly Clarkston's talent or lack thereof, immigration laws, and child rearing.

i'm surprised that we are able to complete any one game or do so without bodily harm done to someone.

perhaps we "survive" our odd, wacky time at the dinner and game table, b/c someone is always laughing, about to laugh, or recovering from laughing.

it's our antidote to a very critical undercurrent that exist in our family. i think it (the critical part) might be hereditary and at times reason enough to not procreate, thus adding to the future genetic pool. the world doesn't need more critical people. it needs more people hoping. or so my idealistic self believes.

but reality is harsh. the world we live in, that my niece and nephews, are on the verge of entering (funny how we say that as if they aren't dealing with life's complexity now) is somewhat depressing. my niece's friends pose pictures of themselves on My Space, that if not pornographic are at the very least suggestive. girls lost in this idea that being sexy is the same as sexuality. that one can not be sexual unless one is involved in sex or able to demonstrate a knowledge of sexy.

this knowledge without understanding frightens me. sex without sexuality. sex without the soul. sex that involves physical moving parts misses the make up of the whole person. it misses the image of God. and in that missing of what is truth, we devalue others. we devalue ourselves. and it's as if the whole world becomes devalued and we are oblivious, drugged by the idea that we are in control. clueless to how the whole is connected to the little bitty day to day choices about how we see ourselves and our choices.

and i ramble but all this amidst a family of critical thinkers, members with their brains turned on and it is staggering. it's staggering on a personal level b/c i wonder sometimes if i or us will ever be good enough? is it ever good enough? the taking out the dishes...the loading them up....is there a better way? responding in irritation...does that make me less Christian...less good...less valued? it's down right overwhelming on a bigger level, b/c the world isn't good enough and it doesn't have enough to offer and it so often gives us less for more and it will never be - void Christ - what it should be, could be.

and then i look around at their faces - mom, dad, sister, brother (in-law), niece and both nephews. depending on whose been snapped at to hurry up and take their turn or whose been the butt of our piercing jokes or whose just been given a back rub or told they are their aunt or poppa's heart and soul or whose witting comeback has all reeling, you'll see faces that tell a story.

stories of kids who threw rocks at a dentist's window outside school. this same dentist now has a "kids get lost" sign as a result. stories of kids who stood up for themselves and say "no more" to the bully at school. stories of breast cancer survived. stories of being thin, then fat and now losing. stories of parents who failed to do what they should have done.

see we have history. and that history makes us laugh. and i believe that history is what gives us hope despite what we can so easily criticize and tear apart. it's why we laugh. it's why in this family we can be so irritated by your annoying ways and yet find you so amazingly awesome all at the same time. and why we have the gift to explain that to you - in five minutes we tear you down while building you up.

our history is our hope. and why we come back to the table each holiday and throw down the Scrabble game and each attest to the other's lack of wits.