Anne Shirley of Anne of Green Gables once said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” Unfortunately, many of us who live overseas don’t. We live in a world where there are no Octobers that look anything like fall. It’s 100 degrees, and the sweat still pours off me whenever I even slightly exert myself. There are no Novembers and no Decembers, at least not like the land in which I was raised.
It’s the time of year when we are reminded of some of the sacrifices we’ve made to be overseas. I’ve lived for fourteen years where there is no autumn and no October. There are no brisk November mornings. There are no December snow flurries. This season is both blessed and heavy—the hard and the holy collide.
In the last fourteen years, I’ve only spent one Thanksgiving meal with any members of my family. Most years there have been no grandparents, no cousins, no big cozy sweaters, no football games on TV, no turkeys to buy, no leaf piles, no chilly fall weather, and no pumpkin spice lattes.
For years during the week before Thanksgiving, a depression would settle over me like a thick blanket. I’d throw an all-out pity party for myself. I isolated myself and became the only miserable guest. How would I make a Thanksgiving dinner with no canned goods, no turkey, no cream of mushroom soup? How would I muster the physical energy to cook everything from scratch all alone? How would I find the emotional energy to make the holiday special for my young kids without extended family around or even local Western teammates to celebrate with?
I’d mope around and feel the weight of all I didn’t have—the family gatherings, the cool weather, the foods I missed. The heat, the bugs, the open-air markets where I’d search and pray for hard-to-find ingredients made everything harder.
Every year followed the same pattern: withdrawal, self-pity, and then finally a quiet plea for help. A simple prayer said in tears would change me: “God, help!”
Somehow the scales on my eyes would fall off. I’d see my sweet kids, my blessings, the good parts of my life. Then God would change my heart and change my attitude. For many of us overseas, Thanksgiving becomes a spiritual discipline—learning to give thanks even if the world around us looks nothing like the one we left behind.
I’d stop seeing my lack. I’d get creative, and I’d get to work. I’d praise God “even if.”
Even if . . . there was no turkey.
Even if . . . there was no extended family.
Even if . . . I’d cook the meal alone.
After so many years of struggle, I’ve learned some things that have helped me overcome wallowing in the pity party of living in a land where there are no Octobers, no Novembers, and no Decembers (at least not months that look anything like my childhood). I’ve learned to praise God “even if.” Over time, I learned that gratitude wasn’t something that appeared on its own—it was something I had to practice.
Thanksgiving is approaching, and this year I’ve avoided the pity party. After all these years, I’ve finally learned how to be grateful even if. In the end, Thanksgiving isn’t about what we have, but about Who we turn to—even if we don’t have what we long for.
So if you are struggling with the holidays, maybe you can learn from my experience and what has worked for me to overcome the holiday blues.
Ask for Help
Turn toward God and stop hiding from Him. Ask Him for help. Ask others for help too, if you can. Ask God for the desire to be thankful, even when you don’t feel thankful. Just recognizing that I couldn’t change my bad attitude on my own did change my attitude.
Name What Is Real
Name your losses and all the things you are missing. Then take time to name all your blessings that you do have. Take time to acknowledge your internal feelings—lament, grieve, praise. Don’t push down your feelings. Lament your losses and take time to grieve. Then praise God for the blessings that He has given you.
Choose Your Perspective
Make a decision that you will praise God and trust Him “even if.” You can enter the holidays expecting disappointment, or you can enter them expecting God’s presence. Both will shape how you see the days ahead. When you look for His goodness, you’ll begin to find it—even if the circumstances haven’t changed.
Welcome Others as God Welcomes You
We’ve always welcomed others around our Thanksgiving table. Some years we welcomed a local person who had no idea how long it took to make the pumpkin pies and the green bean casserole (and didn’t prefer to eat either!). Some years we welcomed a Western stranger traveling through town who appreciated the comfort food and all my hard work and effort. Some years we’ve celebrated with our small church community. Every year, we’ve tried to practice hospitality and generosity, and we’ve formed a community as best we could wherever we’ve been.
Welcoming others is also a reminder that God welcomed us first. He longs to provide for us and care for us. He longs to spend time with us and be our gracious host. Because He provides for our needs and reminds us of our blessings, we can provide for the needs of others and be a blessing to them. We have to receive from God before we can give to others.
Gratitude isn’t denial—it’s defiance. It declares that God is still good even when life feels lonely or lacking. Whether we sit around a crowded table or a small one, we can join with Habakkuk and proclaim, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines . . . yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior” (Hab. 3:17-18).
