Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
Look around—our world is fracturing,
news breaking like waves against our peace,
Uncertainty is the only certainty we know.
The ground shifts daily beneath our feet,
and we are asked to walk anyway, to live anyway,
to find our way through the storms of life.
And yet—we gather here for Thanksgiving.
Not in denial of the chaos, but because of it.
Not despite the brokenness, but precisely
because we need this more than ever.
Neuroscientists tell us gratitude rewires us,
but we already know this in our bones:
when we look—really look—at this table,
these faces, this moment we share together,
this Is where something shifts,
the scattered pieces of our days align into meaning.
There is good and there is hard, always both,
coexisting like breath—the inhale and exhale of living.
We choose which one to live,
and we build our story,
from which one we water with our attention,
until it thrives and grows.
This is Meraki, a Greek word for putting our very souls
into the act of living and being.
We imbue this moment with our core essence,
the light, the love, the gratitude,
we pour into this time and space,
and generously share with others here today.
We can live in beauty, grace, and hope,
for ourselves, our world, and for all the others.
That is Yūgen, a Japanese word for sensing the vast mystery
behind the ordinary,
how this single gathering,
is both fleeting and infinite,
how quickly it will pass,
and how deeply it matters to all of us,
and what we choose to become.
So we practice Thanksgiving,
not as tradition, but as strategy,
as a lifeline, as the very thing
that keeps us human,
and able to make a difference in our world.
Gratitude in chaos is not weakness,
it is power.
It is choosing,
when we could surrender to despair,
to see what remains:
the goodness that persists,
the love that endures,
the beauty that refuses to be extinguished,
even in the darkest hour.
This is how we live Thanksgiving in our times:
by putting our souls into our actions,
by pouring ourselves into the recognition,
that this moment, these people, this table,
are not small things but are everything.
By sensing the profound mystery
of our brief, precious time here together,
how it passes like water through our fingers,
and yet contains the possibilities for a better future.
We can be the light in the darkness,
the bright star in an ink-black night,
the sun, breaking the horizon,
bringing warmth and light to the world.
We can be the wholeness,
In the prevalent division,
the “what’s right,”
In a time when there is so much wrong.
And in choosing to be thankful,
we become the antidote to despair,
the opening where new futures can grow,
the proof that even in chaos,
we can still make meaning,
we can still choose love,
we can still say: yes.
This gathering is our gratitude made visible.
This meal is our hope made tangible.
This moment—right here—
is Thanksgiving.