Even after seven years' marriage, I'm still trying to get over what I call "holiday resentment." I'd rather be home, safe, cooking our own turkey. I don't want my children endangered by Interstate traffic.
Instead of a relaxing holiday, I'm constantly "on"--from contorting myself into a pretzel to nurse a desperate baby in the car to dealing with daily meltdowns from too much hype and horseplay.
Don't even get me started on the cost! I asked my husband not to tell me the price of our Thanksgiving buffet at a fancy restaurant. I probably won't have a chance to savor a single bite.
Forget about a holiday diet. I need to shed my inner martyr instead. I can twist those worries into a holier-than-thou attitude faster than whipping up a canned pumpkin pie.
But that's selfishness talking; that's me, not getting my way. God tells us that every day is one "which the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 118:24).
Today, I will be glad for a safe car, enough money for gas, and family that wants to see us on holidays. I will rejoice in eight hours of leisurely conversation with the man I married. I will be grateful that leftovers won't tempt me later. I will give thanks that children four and under still eat free.