The Days We Didn’t Know We’d Miss: Finding Joy in Change

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12 NIV)

If we only knew those days would not last forever. Our energy lasted from the first light of dawn, when one of the children woke and stumbled from the nest of cousins piled together to his or her mother’s arms, until late evening.

In the quiet morning, sisters, brothers, aunts, and grandparents sipped coffee while the wood stove, recently reloaded with wood cut and split just days before, cranked out delicious heat.

One by one, each endearing face appeared; some heading straight for the old table extended with as many leaves as it could hold, to pour cereal and milk into bowls. The crunching added to the cozy feel.

We all knew what was ahead. The turkey would be dressed and popped into the oven. Peeling would begin. Pounds of potatoes and squash would feel the flick of the blade while the women got caught up on life and each other’s children.

The Macy’s Day parade would entertain and give familiar background music to the work—until it was time for football.

The long walk around the reservoir, the football game in the field, the movies at night. It was worth it. Worth the long drive for some. Worth the air travel for others. Worth the crying, the inevitable complaining, the realization that we were family but different, and that was okay.

Teach Us to Number Our Days

It was Thanksgiving.

I didn’t know then how quickly those Thanksgivings would become memories. I could scarcely imagine our parents’ home being sold, beloved faces disappearing from our lives, children grown with children of their own, traditions forgotten or changed.

Moses, who had witnessed generations come and go, prayed to the LORD to “teach us to number our days so we gain a heart of wisdom.”

Moses understood something we often learn only with age; our days on earth are precious because they are not endless. He watched an entire generation of Israelites die in unbelief and rebellion, which kept them from entering the Promised Land. Moses recognized human frailty, our sin, God’s judgment, and how quickly a lifetime passes. His prayer was that God would teach them to live the days they were given with wisdom.

I think I recognized the worth of those days while I was living them to some extent, but I didn’t have the whole picture. I hadn’t lived a long enough life to truly understand.

Now I see those days as if I were looking into a snow globe. I see my family inside the bubble, gathered together. I see the brilliant colored leaves of New England Fall. I hear them crunch under our feet. I hear the warmth of laughter, smell the sweet scent of a baby’s neck, and I am so very thankful for my precious memories.

When Traditions Change

Today, my Thanksgivings look very different. I have spent some years alone. There have been years my table was filled with near strangers. I know enough to recognize the blessing in each one, no matter how different they may be.  

These are the days God has given us. And they are numbered here on earth.

This Thanksgiving, let’s offer Him – and each other – the gift of being present.

What ordinary moment in your life might someday become a treasured memory? Can you ask God to really see it through His eyes now, while you are still living it?