Thanksgiving

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”

Says Shug Avery in The Color Purple. It comes toward the end of the movie, like a benediction on scene after scene of abuse, neglect, debasement and depravity. No mere afterthought – note its placement in the title – Shug’s comment marks one piece of a hazy but real redemption for those bruised by life’s hard, dark edges. Notice. Stop and look. The video of a cat singing Barry Manilow will wait. Smell the darn roses. Be amazed at the sun or the rain and feel them on your skin as gift. See the small, kind gesture from your spouse. Say thanks for that. Snuffle your child’s hair as they sleep; breathe deeply. Pause. Consider the lilies, we are told, they are beautiful, yes, and yet they too flourish like a flower of the field and are gone. Notice the momentary purple. Gratitude starts here. Perhaps healing too. Notice as a child does, for theirs is the kingdom. Doing so reminds us that every moment, color, breath, laugh, fall day, smile, touch, long meal with good friends and morning cup of coffee is a grace. Look closely and pause at day’s end to say, slowly, “Thank you. For this day. It’s a gift. All of it.”