Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Turkeys and Thanksgiving

Today, a floor from my dorm decided to create a new Thanksgiving tradition: The Turkey Hunt. A poor, unfortunate freshman is chosen, through processes most secret (and possibly diabolical), to dress up as a turkey. The rest of the floor pretends to be Pilgrims and Indians and hunts down and tackles the turkey for the entire day. The only safe places are buildings. When he travels between buildings, he has to make noise like a turkey, announcing his panicking presence. At the end of the day, the Great Hunt begins and the poor freshman is tacked in the forest outside the Dining Commons mercilessly. After which the floor decides to have a party and open the floor to the entire campus.

Now, before my friends on said floor start thinking I'm going to bash their tradition, I'm not. If anything, I'd like to say thank you to those people. I actually thought of something rather profound.

I tend to act like a turkey. Spiritually, that is. And in other ways too. I'll be man enough to acknowledge both meanings of calling myself a turkey. But let me explain.

The battle field looks rather innocuous. The field's name is Life. I peek out of my hiding place, trying to hide my garish get-up and survive without being tackled by my personal demons. However, when the time comes for me to go from one place to the next, I run to the next safe place screaming, "GOBBLE!GOBBLE!GOBBLE!"

Of course, I make a fool out of myself, and I get taken down very quickly. I live in fear of the next attack, and just try to survive moment by moment. And when I am attacked, I don't fight back. I just give a frightened yelp of "Gobble!" and fall to my attacker's blows. Nathan for dinner!

Seriously, though, it is pathetic. If I used a few wrestling moves in this proverbial battles, I would be able to escape my attackers and run in freedom from building to building. I mean, I'm not a bad wrestler in real life, though I have yet to face my best friend in battle and legitimately beat him (sometimes he cheats after I beat him, and thus claims to win, but I'd rather not go into that). If only physical prowess converted easily to spiritual strength. But it doesn't. However, if I take the time to think about it, I do have a way out of being tackled endlessly in spiritual battles and becoming a demon's dinner.

Continuing the "battle" analogy, I have a Father and Big Brother waiting for me to call out "HELP!" My Brother takes on the garb of the turkey, drawing off my attackers, while my Father leads me to safety. After beating my attackers to a pulp and demolishing their strongholds in my life, my Brother comes back and continues to walk with me, His watchful eyes constantly prowling to spot enemies.

Now, I can walk through life with my head held high, knowing my Father and Big brother have my back. I don't have to be a turkey, even though it can be fun to be dressed up as a defenseless, flightless bird. I have a protector by my side, who loves me forever. He won't let me be attacked as long as I stay near him. But if I push him away and tell him, "I've got it," I'm fair game again until I ask for help again.

So, I guess I'm thankful for the lesson of the Turkey Hunt. And I'm thankful to God for being my Father and Jesus, for saving me from the demonic hunters hungry for my foolish flesh. Without Him, I know I would still be forced to run screaming and flapping my wings uselessly, trying to not wind up as someone's meal. And I'm thankful for turkeys. Without them, I would have no food for Thanksgiving! Just kidding. I'm thankful because they have inspired me to reflect on my blessings as a spiritual "turkey."

Praise be to our most Holy God, for He alone is worthy.

1 comment:

  1. This was great! I particularly loved the uncommon illustration in the 7th paragraph.

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