Dear Friends,
I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. The Apostle Paul says that the deepest root of human dysfunction is that “they neither glorified him as God nor gave him thanks” (Rom. 1:21). Just pause and think about that for a second or two. Ingratitude. That’s the mark of rebellion. So what a blessing it is that we have a day set aside in our country to beat back the darkness—shake our fists at jealousy and envy and bitterness and selfishness—by just giving thanks.
“Every good gift,” says James, comes down “from the Father of lights” (James 1:17). It is ultimately he whom we have to thank. And so I shall.
This year I’m thankful for nouns: people, places, and things.
People
“Bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh.”
Tomorrow marks twenty-two years of marriage to Tara. I cannot imagine what my life would look like without her. She is industrious, frugal, creative, kind, patient, wise, and godly. And beautiful, while she’s at it. A stellar executive over her household, a loving mother, and wonderful life partner. I am thankful for her.
I am thankful for my three daughters, each so delightfully different. They are so talented and creative, and so good at keeping their Dad humble. I’m thankful that they love each other. It’s crazy that people think of kids as “mouths to feed.” To vastly understate the truth, they are a value-added proposition.
“A friend that sticks closer than a brother.”
Thirty-some-odd years ago I was an obnoxious, dorky homeschooler. I went to the first meeting of a Toastmaster’s Club (did I mention dorky?) where I met another dorky homeschooler. And Casey J has been my best friend ever since that first meeting, through many ups and downs, thick and thin. I don’t imagine many people can say that about a childhood friend. I’m blessed.
When my friend Andrew moved to the deep south a couple of years ago it seemed I’d lost my only local happy hour friend. I’m thankful that we still enjoy an occasional beverage together, even if it’s over FaceTime. He’s always telling me that he’s “not a good person,” but I happily and strongly disagree.
My friend Noel calls me from the front seat of his big rig to tell me about the latest National Review podcast or another incomprehensible, hare-brained plot for a movie script or book he wants me to write. I know I sometimes sound annoyed, but I love it.
I’ve been blessed over the last five years or so to reconnect with Dave, a friend from infancy who finally had some time on his hands after a decade of the U.S. Army disappearing him to places he can never tell me about.
In August another long time, near-thirty-year friend, Noah, drove eight hours to keep me company for a few days while I was camped out in a guest house at Westminster Theological Seminary. We pick up exactly where we leave off.
My older brother Dan and I have reconnected in recent years, through some rough times. He’s godlier than me, so I’m thankful for the role model. I wish I was a more competitive chess partner. I think I drew him a game once, but that’s it.
I’m thankful for Andrew, David, and Jeff, three outstanding and brilliant friends with whom I communicate basically every single day through the miracle of Facebook Messenger. It has been a crazy five years, as many people have sadly lost friends over political disagreements. We four have managed to maintain violent agreement and kept each other sane through it all. I’m thankful for them, thankful for their expanding cultural influence, and thankful that next week is our much-anticipated annual face-to-face time in San Francisco.
Places
“The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.”
I’m thankful for my house. It was an actual miracle that we were able to purchase this place, and we’ve done much to improve it over the years. I still need to finish the basement renovation—just the bathroom to go—but I’m thankful for all we’ve been able to accomplish. My deck provides another 500 square feet during the Spring-to-Autumn months, and I particularly love my cast aluminum chiminea to take the cold edge off the air.
Montana is a special place that too many people are discovering. The “exodus” from the west coast is real, I can report. And I take some comfort from the fact that many of the newcomers will be leaving again; all it will take is a normal winter. But I can walk out to my south-running residential street and look a full 60 or 70 miles to the Pryor Mountains. We might think we’re getting crowded, but there’s still plenty of elbow room with long views.
A certain river valley that I will certainly not identify is my favorite place on earth, and that’s where I spend my days off. Dirt roads, privacy, and a trout stream. Yes, I could fly fish if I lived somewhere like Colorado; but I’d likely be fishing shoulder-to-shoulder with other people. Where I fish, and when I fish, I hardly ever see another soul. I am not thankful that I’ve had a couple of very bad fishing years in a row, but my fortunes will change at some point.
Things
“And all these things will be added unto you.”
Christians often downplay material things because they think that the spiritual and material worlds are somehow at odds or in a competitive relationship with each other. But that isn’t what the Bible teaches at all. God made stuff, and he called it “very good.” When Jesus talked about material comforts he did not say “don’t worry about them because they aren’t important.” He said to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you.” Prioritizing the kingdom and our spiritual well-being is not at the expense of our material needs or rightly-ordered material desires.
So I unabashedly give thanks for my stuff, the things God has “added unto me.”
I’m thankful for books. I have a lot of them. Probably most of them I haven’t read. A man with books he hasn’t read is guaranteed to never have justified boredom. My only problem is that I need the Lord to “add unto me” more shelf space.
I’m thankful for musical instruments and the ability to play some of them well. Our piano, a Charles Walter, is a gem that I traveled a thousand miles to obtain—the guy selling it on Craigslist had no clear idea what a marvelous instrument he had. He actually had two pianos in his living room, and he preferred the other one (which was actually a piece of junk). So, he was happy and so was I. I paid far less than what it is worth. The girls keep the piano busy, and it can easily handle anything you throw at it—from Taylor Swift to Rachmaninoff.
My guitars—somehow I’ve ended up with five of them. Three are not high-quality, but sentimental. Two are top-shelf Taylors. My middle daughter has essentially requisitioned one of those, so I need (okay, want) another if I ever want to play live again (having two guitars on stage is ideal when you use wildly different tunings). As it happens, a ridiculously generous friend (for whom I’m also thankful!) recently has unexpectedly made it possible for me to have a boutique luthier hand-craft a guitar to my exact specifications. So next year at this time, Lord willing, I will add a dream instrument to my collection. I’m meeting with said artisan in little over a week, and together we’ll pick the woods. She tells me she’s got a stash of Brazilian Rosewood, so I imagine that’ll take all of thirty seconds.
I’m thankful for tools. As I’ve had to learn how to be a car mechanic, I’ve ended up adding things here and there, so much so that I’m in need of a real tool box. Harbor Freight is a wonder; supremely inexpensive tools made in China. I could go to Ace Hardware and pay four times as much, but I’d be buying tools that are also, of course, made in China. So three cheers for globalization, while I’m at it. I’m also thankful for some other tools I refer to as “hole punches”—you know, the kind that can punch a hole in something hundreds of yards distant. I don’t really talk about those, but I’m thankful for superior care and craftsmanship that goes into them.
I’m thankful to the Lord for preserving me, for loving me, for saving me, and for sanctifying me. What amazing love!
Blessings to all of you. May God give you people, places, and things in which to delight and for which to be thankful for the glory and renown of his Name forever.