Thanksgiving is “my” holiday, the one where everybody comes to our house. It began back in 1969 when Nate and I got married on Thanksgiving weekend, and friends of our parents put on a lavish spread the day before our rehearsal dinner.

In November of 1970 (when Nate was still in law school) we decided to host Thanksgiving in our small apartment far from home, and were thrilled when extended family agreed to make the drive.

Forty Thanksgivings later, I’ve learned that the hardest part about the meal is making sure the turkey is thawed in time. (I’ve also learned that if it isn’t, the giblet bag inside will go through the baking process without a problem, though it isn’t nearly as tasty as stuffing.)

Some Thanksgivings we’ve had over 40 guests, but this year it will be only 19. Many are bringing food contributions to the meal, and Louisa and Birgitta (currently living with me) are wonderful co-workers. We’ve also got a first-time helper working with us: 13 month old Emerald.

After coming home from the grocery store Monday, I deposited 18 bags of food on the kitchen counter and sat her in the middle of them to assist with unloading. A 24 pound bird and several extra turkey breasts were part of the haul, so I put them on the counter to begin thawing.

Emerald was fascinated with the netted bags, plucking at the smaller breasts and laughing as they spun around on the counter.

Eventually she began patting them saying, “Hot… Hot…” (not yet knowing the word “cold”) when all of a sudden she started crying. Since she was still patting the frozen meat, it didn’t take long to figure out her tender hands were hurting from the cold. Though we quickly moved to a warmer project, it was interesting that she hadn’t known enough to stop her patting. She needed me to do it for her.

How many times have I needed God to do something like that for me? It’s happened when I’ve jumped into a project without adequate knowledge or preparation, rushing ahead to do things my way without asking God what he preferred. Or it was that I hadn’t had any experience but thought I could accomplish a task just as well as someone who had. I’ve been burned badly in both situations and needed God to terminate the projects.

Scripture tells us there is safety in the presence of wise counselors, and of course the ultimate adviser is God himself. We ought never to tackle something big without first getting thorough instructions from our superiors. That might mean going all the way to THE superior One to get our marching orders directly from him.

In the mean time, all of us learn pretty well from experience, sometimes painfully so. Just ask Emerald.

“Where there is no counsel, the people fall; but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.” (Proverbs 11:14)