Thanksgiving in July

If you were to ask an American the first word that pops in their head when they hear “Thanksgiving,” most would say turkey, football, food coma, etc. I am in the category that would think first of the delicious food available to us all year long that is somehow extra exciting the fourth week of November.

This week in the jungle has felt a lot like Thanksgiving. As I’ve mentioned before, we live on a farm in a wooden shelter at the top of a hill. Our view is the Amazon River and our backyard is the Amazon jungle. We cook own meals of oatmeal, eggs, rice, and canned chicken, and I recently celebrated the anniversary of my millionth PB&J in the jungle.

Our neighbors don’t invite us over for dinner a whole lot, mainly because they are cows and spiders and flying cockroaches. We weren’t offended by their inhospitality, as we probably wouldn’t dine on the same meals anyways, and my team and I accepted that no one would be hosting us any time soon.

Last Saturday in Nauta, we were proven wrong. We had just finished our internet access, and we were preparing to embark on week five, when a man named Mark hopped on our boat. Mark and his wife are missionaries that have both learned that God speaks to them the most when they are out of their comfort zones. Sounds familiar. Anyways, Mark explained that he, his wife, and their friend Delilah would be living on our farm with us for the next week. We accepted the news gratefully, and we continued on, excited for a little variety in our week.

The following Monday was our first day of ministry in a new village named Canan. It was exciting and exhausting, and at the end of the day we eagerly boarded our boat so we could head back to the farm. Our team learned that our new neighbors invited us to have dinner with them, and at 5:15 we bolted down the hill to their house with our plates and forks and empty stomachs.

We were greeted by smiles and warm welcomes, though my eyes darted to the kitchen space before anything else. What would we be eating? Would it be chicken with the bones and feet and neck? Because I’ll never get used to that. Would it be piranha? Because I’m not okay with that either. My mind was rushing with adrenaline as I hoped for the best but prepared for the worst.

5:37 p.m. Our stomachs growled and the anticipation was killing us. An eternity later, at 5:39 p.m., the trumpets sounded and the heavens opened up. The sky became a soft shade of pink and the Angels sang. Mark announced we would be having roasted chicken (the kind not from a can!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)…. AND FRENCH FRIES.

The rest is all a blur of blissful jubilee. I had forgotten that dinner usually involves other options besides rice. I had forgotten that a sliver of fried potato can bring so much joy.

We scarfed down our chicken and fries only to learn that there was cake. We wept (not really) and held each other (also not really) as we joyously shoved cake into our sugar-deprived bodies. Somewhere in all this excitement, Mark told us that they’d like to have us for dinner again the next night because they bought beef and wanted to make a spaghetti and meatballs type of dish. The jubilee ensued.

To top off our week of good eating, we received the news that on Friday, we would get to leave our farm and spend the day in Iquitos where there are SHOWERS and PIZZA!!!

Now, I told many of you that I was going on a mission trip to Peru, and that I would be based in the city of Iquitos. I told you that because that is what I was told. Oops. I’m not based in Iquitos, I am a two hour bus ride and one hour boat ride away from Iquitos. So when a group of missionaries hear that for one night they will get to sleep in a building with walls and floors that bugs can’t get through, and real showers with pipes and water, it’s exciting. Iquitos is the big time.

All of these luxuries seems small, but they aren’t small. Having variety in food is a blessing. Having neighbors that want to talk to you and encourage you and learn about how you’re growing with God is a blessing. Having an opportunity to use a real shower when most of the villages we visit have never even seen one is a blessing. Today is the Fourth of July, and I have never been more grateful to call America home. This week I began to really count my blessings and feel so thankful for the amenities I wouldn’t normally think twice about. So for your viewing ease, I’ve compiled a list of what I am thankful for:

1. A washer and dryer and refrigerator. I want everyone reading this to walk up to their appliances and say “thank you.”
2. Friendship. I am so thankful for my communities of friends and how they love me and how they love God.
3. Ice
4. Chicken that doesn’t come in a can.
5. A God that uses my discomfort to show me how many blessings I have.
6. A momma that is so beautiful and smart and diligent and wants nothing but the best for me.
7. A daddy that is such a hard worker and loves to teach me new things and support me.
8. MY DOG!!! The dogs here are literally insane. @niño @princessa
9. I get to go to college and am not expected to get married at age 15
10. A bed to sleep in
11. Chai lattes from Thanks A Latte
12. Toilet paper, not banana leaves
13. The opportunity to be anything I want to be because America is incredible
14. A sink to wash dishes in
15. Walking outside my house without the fear of being trampled or stepping in cow manure.
16. A/C
17. Ice cream

I could go on for another four weeks until I’m on the plane back to the USA. God has given me so much more than I could possibly need; I never truly grasped that before. I propose that Thanksgiving shouldn’t be a day when we contemplate all we have during the commercial breaks of the game. Thanksgiving shouldn’t be a noun, just a number on a calendar. Thanksgiving should be a verb; it should be a constant way in which we live our lives. It should be a celebration of both the small things like having soap and the big things like having a God that loves us.

The people in the villages don’t have four weeks until they are back in America. They don’t have four weeks until they can use a real shower or sleep on a mattress. This is their life, and that is incredible to me. At this midway point in my trip, I am experiencing a thankfulness greater than words can say. I am so excited to return to the United States soon and to do my best to live in a state of Thanksgiving. Happy 239th, America!