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Archive for the ‘Thanksgiving’ Category

~ Written by Lorena Oplinger

Many purchases have been made based on emotional reasons.” This is what I’ve learned as a retail sales associate. The way we choose to spend our money reflects not only who we are but also what we lack.

In a recent sermon, my pastor explained that our lack of self-control in buying things is more than a behavior. “Shopaholics buy things in order to fill the emptiness in their hearts,” he stated. The pleasure we feel when we buy certain items, eat certain food, or do certain activities is created by our brain, a powerful machine that it releases its own dopamine. This chemical substance makes us feel better and happier.

People are desperate to be accepted, included, and welcomed. Everybody wants to feel part of something, but when someone experiences rejection, exclusion, and/or discrimination, he or she will always find other ways to compensate for the gap produced in his or her heart.

Purchasing something of value gives us a false sense of identity. We have become a Nike, Under Armour, and Adidas society. We don’t mind paying twice the value for brand items if they represent a high social status.

My job requires me to provide the best service experience to those who come to me, but my call as a Christian is to share the Good News of Christ in an emotionally empty world.

I would love for them to know that happiness is free.

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~ Written by Viki Rife

I realized the Pilgrims were kindred spirits the year I turned nine. Up until then, I hadn’t thought much about people who landed in the United States, half a world away from where my family lived, and celebrated a season of thankfulness. Because Thanksgiving wasn’t a holiday in the country where my parents were missionaries, the fourth Thursday of November was just another school day a few weeks before the start of summer vacation.

That year, my parents decided to put on a Thanksgiving dinner to share our culture with some of the people they were working with. Mom was seven months pregnant with her fourth child, and I suspect she was craving stuffing and pumpkin pie. Dad talked to some friends who said they knew a butcher who might have turkeys, so the day before the celebration we all piled into the car to drive across the city to check it out.

We three kids waited in the hot car for what seemed like an hour before Mom and Dad came out of the butcher shop empty-handed. That shop didn’t have turkeys, but they referred us to someone in another part of the city who might have some. That shop ended up referring us to another, and so it went.

Four hours later, we still had no turkey. It was starting to get dark. We were all hot, tired, and irritable. The tension in the car was palpable. Frustrated, I said, “I bet the Pilgrims didn’t have this much trouble getting a turkey for Thanksgiving!”

My parents laughed and my younger siblings wanted to know what Pilgrims were. As Mom and Dad explained, with me jumping in to share what little I knew, the mood in the car became thoughtful, almost reverent. We talked about what it meant to leave family and friends and struggle in a new land. We talked about gratitude and why it was important.

I think it was my little sister who said, “Can we pray that God will give us a turkey?” Somehow it suddenly seemed important to celebrate such a crucial holiday. We prayed as we drove to the last-hope butcher. Sure enough, they had a (very scrawny) turkey.

The next day, we sat down to a feast reminiscent of the pictures I’d seen in magazines. All was great until we bit into the turkey. It was one tough bird! Before we could complain, Mom said brightly, “I bet the turkey the Pilgrims ate was tough, too.” We laughed, and I decided I could really identify with those Pilgrim children.

Tough turkey and all, we had a lot to be thankful for.

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