I am not sure which I prefer:
Thanksgiving with a psychologist who actually issued me a diagnosis by the end of the meal (I wonder if he'll send me a bill)...
...or Thanksgiving with my parents, my in-laws, and my gynecologist and his wife all around the same table (may I note that a roasted Turkey with its feet in the air takes on a whole new look when sitting across the table from one's OB/GYN).
I have now officially had both.
I guess you could say that Thanksgiving at my house is never boring; but, the food certainly doesn't get top billing when my mental and/or ovarian health are out there for everyone to chew on.
Actually, I think I enjoy hosting Thanksgiving more than any other event of the year. I love setting the table, cooking the food, lighting the candles, lingering over a long meal with dear friends, and enjoying lively conversation. Oh, and learning that I have a deeply held phobia that originated in childhood. That's always fun, too.
Well, the dishes are done, the left-overs are in the fridge, and the Christmas music is playing. I am now ready to embrace the season of holly, stockings, and eggnog.
And no, I am not going to tell you what my newly named neurosis is. Not yet, anyway.
Friday, November 27, 2009
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"may I note that a roasted Turkey with its feet in the air takes on a whole new look when sitting across the table from one's OB/GYN)"
ReplyDeleteOh my.
BTW, a psychologist might be able to tell you what problem you have but you already have the answer--
Jesus, the Cross, the power of the Holy Spirit and obedience to Him.