Hi, I’m Joni Eareckson Tada and Happy Thanksgiving!
You know, my sweetest memories are ones that inspire thanksgiving. Most are from my life before my accident: my hands pressing piano keys or plucking the strings of my old guitar or peeling an orange, or holding the reins of my horse—now there’s a favorite memory. Like when I was 14 years old and living on our farm in Maryland. Our neighbor, Mr. Cauthorne, invited me to go on a foxhunt, of all things. So early on Thanksgiving morning, I saddled up and headed out across the river to Mr. Cauthorne’s farm. When I arrived, I saw him across the crowded paddock sitting atop his big thoroughbred, wearing his red coat. This was also new to me: The morning air was sweet with the scent of oats and hay and cider.
The hunt master blew his horn, the hounds took up the chase, and we spurred our horses into a slow canter. And oh, I can still feel my hands holding the reins, my knees squeezing the saddle; I can hear hooves tearing up clods, the creaking of leather, dogs baying and horses snorting. I can smell the November air—sharp, dank and earthy—the odor of leaves and mud. I can still feel the lightness in my stomach as we’d gallop toward a stone wall, fly over it, catch our breath and head for the next fence. Flinging his mane, my horse was never happier. All this … and we never caught the fox.
And here’s the thing. When I recall that wonderful day, it does not make me sad. True, I haven’t ridden a horse or held reins (or held anything) in over 45 years. The only leather I sit on now is the padding of my wheelchair. My feet aren’t in stirrups; they rest on foot pedals. No cinches around saddle—only cinches around my middle to help me breathe better. The clip clopping of hooves has been replaced by the click clacking of wheel bearings. I don’t hurdle fences; I wheel up ramps. But that’s okay. It’s okay. Lamentations chapter 3, verse 21 unlocks the Spirit-blessed purpose behind my memories when it says, “Yet this I recall to mind and therefore I have hope.”
You see, our most beautiful memories of moments gifted by God should always inspire hope and gratitude. Memories are my ‘reminders’ of the promise that one day soon I will have new hands. I will have fingers that work and feel again, touch and pluck and pick and scrub and dig—hands that will even hold the reins of a horse, hands that will reach for my husband, Ken. For the first time, I’ll give his hand a squeeze just to see what it feels like, hands that will reach for my Savior’s where I will literally touch the scars of his sacrifice. It’ll happen! God promises me in Jeremiah 29:11, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for evil, plans to give you a future and a hope.’” Oh, friend, our best memories should always help give shape to a hopeful future.
Do you have memories of better times or happier days? Well, when you recall those moments and the gracious way God has dealt with you in the past, I pray it’ll inspire thankfulness and hope in your heart. Don’t let memories make you feel sad; let them help you look forward to the time when God will wipe away every tear and atone for every hurt. Let the past give shape to your glorious future when sorrow and sighing will flee away. Psalm 105:4-5 says, “Remember the wonders he has done.” Remember—and remember again, especially today on Thanksgiving. Then, tell God how grateful you are for the even brighter future about to break on your horizon. Oh, hey, real quickly, if you’d like to see me as a teenager on my horse, I’ve posted that fun photo today over at joniandfriends.org; take a look, and have a blessed Thanksgiving.
© Joni and Friends, 2013
Compliments of Joni and Friends
PO Box 3333 Agoura Hills, CA 91376