Like so many this time of year, I contemplate what I am thankful for.

Memories of the past can be haunting, but distant compared to the ones which warm the heart.

In my younger days, a reprieve from our home of alcoholic abuse and the heavy, stern hand of my dad was always anticipated.

Excitement and enthusiasm bounced in the car during our drive to the sanctuary of my great grandmother’s house. What joy to spend a day or longer in her house of peace.

When we arrived, the greeting was the aroma of love, of joy and of laughter.  My great grandmother’s hugs were the best.  My great uncle, the fisherman of our family, could be seen in the drive cleaning fish.  His smile warmed the heart.

Besides the aroma of love, the aroma of warm cooked meals were always waiting.  The softest and fluffiest tortillas, green chile cooking, greasy fried potatoes browning in sweet onions to be topped with fried eggs.  The best was my great grandmother’s creamy rice pudding.

All gathered in the kitchen, the heart of her home.  So few chairs, but plenty of laps.  Prayers of thanksgiving were never forgotten.

What made her home so special?

There was a presence, an unseen guest who abided in her home.  One Who was honored with reverent fear.  Not a fear of being scared of Him, but of awe and wonder. He was present at every meal, in every smile and wrapped in every hug.  His peace covered the walls and His love penetrated the rooms.  My heart and whole being melted in His presence – a sanctuary of love.

The big overstuffed chair in the the living room drew you to find rest for body and soul.  I loved to oblige.

Where was the best place?

As evening approached, the best place was on her front porch.  It faced southwest with a clear view of several of the Colorado mountains.  What a view and a blessing.

I anticipated the setting sun and waited for the best time and place to end the day.  After dark, in full view between the trees stood the magnificent lighted Cross.  Oh, the Wonderful Cross – 393 feet high and 254 feet across.

In the quiet of the night, a peace settled over me.  My eyes were fixed and steady on the bright light of the Cross that penetrated the darkness on the mountainside.   There was a sense of being home that one cannot explain.

The blessed, wonderful Cross.  A blessing of grace to mankind.  So few understand the power, love and the exchanged life that bids one to search deep within their heart and soul.  The exchange of a broken life to a New Life made whole through this act of love in Christ Jesus.

A grounded memory, never forgotten, forever grateful.

It’s still a place I look for when I stand on my great grandmother’s porch to this day.

But, now the Cross is my sanctuary of love and place of rest.  No other sacrifice of love has been greater than that of Christ Jesus. It keeps my walk sure, steady and grounded.

Where are you grounded?  Where is your sanctuary?

Happy Thanksgiving family and friends.

The Mount Lindo Cross  –  https://cemeteries.wordpress.com/2007/03/16/colorados-mount-lindo-cross/

Oh, the Wonderful Cross – Thank you, Lord Jesus Christ.