One of man’s earliest invention is still one of our most useful. The bowl.

The internet claims the oldest bowl on record is 20,000 years old. You probably don’t have the most expensive bowl in the world. Unless you’re the guy who, in 2017, bought a 900-year-old Chinese bowl sold on auction for $38 million. 

 

Typical bowls are much less costly and are also quite convenient. The same bowl can be used to hold both hot soup and cold ice cream. They hold salads, cereals, and spare change. Meals you normally put on a plate can also go in a bowl, but usually not the other way around. You need bowls for mixing and baking and for preventing your pet’s food from spreading all over the floor. I can’t make grandma’s famous meatballs without a bowl. Plunging my hands into the cold, wet, gooey mixture of meat, eggs, bread, cheese, and onions is as satisfying as making mud pies as a child. Only the meatballs are exponentially tastier. It’s a lot harder to mix meatballs on a plate. 

 

As a kid, we had a mammoth plastic Tupperware bowl that held enough popcorn for a double feature. I wish I still had that bowl. I have two porcelain bowls from Kazakhstan containing a collection of seashells gathered from the Caspian Sea. Seated on an adjacent bookcase, is wooden bowl from Mozambique. I like these bowls, but the two bowls I value the most are in the kitchen. They live on a high shelf above the sink. They peer out at me from behind glass cabinet doors. They’re pretty old. Not 20,000 years old, but maybe 75 to 80. And they remind me of my family because they were my grandma’s. They’re cream colored and are adorned with a viny band of orange flowers. A prolific painter, I wonder if my grandma added the decorations herself.  

 

My dad said they came from a bakery in Buffalo, NY back when breads and rolls were delivered to your door. I guess if you ordered enough focaccia and sourdough, the bakery threw in a set of bowls. Life has come full circle now that we can get our groceries and meals dropped off on our doorsteps, like coffeecakes, milk, and ice in the ‘40s. Although, Grubhub and Instacart don’t add in a set of bowls. 

 

I wonder how many pounds of pasta those bowls have held over the years. And at Thanksgiving, how many servings of stuffing and mountains of mashed potatoes did they deliver to the dining room table.

 

Ah Thanksgiving. Our beloved day of voicing our gratitude for our good things, for all times that God has filled the bowls of our hearts. Giving thanks is a righteous and sacred movement of the heart. 

 

When I think of blessings, and the abundance in which they come, I’m reminded of a Bible miracle story that marked the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. It happened at a wedding in which the host had run out of wine. Nearby there were six bowls (Ok, giant jars or cisterns, but I’m writing about bowls, so work with me). They each held 20 to 30 gallons of water. A standard wine barrel of today holds 60 gallons. So, picture the equivalent of two or three barrels of water. Jesus changed the water into wine, thus saving the reputation of the host. I don’t know the wedding’s head count, but I’m guessing that 120-180 gallons of wine bordered on abundant. And Jesus didn’t produce the cheap stuff. His wine doesn’t come in a box or go on sale at Von’s. His wine earns 97 points, rivals what’s made in Napa, and is served at Michelin-rated restaurants. 

 

Do you equate your blessings with such abundance? I look around and feel as if the bowls of my heart are full of such blessings. It’s a 120-gallons-of-wine time of life. My family members are all healthy. There’s Beautiful Karla, her kids, and her extended family. I have a stable job and a gaggle of encouraging friends. Nearly all parts of my body are in working order, though some are in steady decline.

 

Many times the Bible says to give thanks, but one verse comes with a twist. It exhorts to give thanks … In All Circumstances. It’s hard to skirt around the word “all”. I bet it doesn’t just mean the good, joyous, prosperous times of life. And if that’s the case, “all” must therefore include the difficult, sad, arid, painful times of life.

 

The times when it feels as if the wine barrels have run dry. When the bowls of your heart hold nothing but dust. Are you currently experiencing a season such as this? Is it hard to give thanks? 

 

I can relate.

 

I find that I’m profoundly talented at giving thanks for hardships … after they’re over. When the storm has passed and the rainbow glows. When the seas have calmed, and my boat has reached the shore. When the tunnel is in the rear-view mirror. When it seems like the spigot of blessings from heaven has reopened and my bowls are filling again.

 

This is usually because there was “blessing in disguise” situation going on. There was a lesson learned, an ah-ha moment. That whole hindsight is 20-20 thing. All things happen for a reason, as the saying goes. But how did I respond amid the hardship? Did I count it all joy or was I worried? Did I trust or get frustrated? Was I compassionate and gentle or angry? Did I doubt God’s goodness?

 

Giving thanks in ALL circumstances doesn’t flow as freely. But I don’t think God’s blessings are a hot and cold, off and on, arrangement. Will the bowls of my heart spring a leak if a hardship arrives tomorrow? Or will I see that nobody moved the 120 gallons of new wine?

 

At the end of his public ministry, a few hours before suffering a torturous death, Jesus took a bowl of water and humbly washed the feet of his friends. He then took some bread, dipped it a bowl of wine …

 

And gave thanks. 

 

A few feet from the cross he was able to give thanks. Once he left that upper room, abandonment, humiliation, extreme pain, and death were waiting. And he gave thanks.

 

That’s pretty much the epitome of an “In All Circumstances” moment.

 

He gave thanks. I see there’s a lot to learn from those three words.

 

I hope your Thanksgiving is blessed. Eat, drink, laugh, and rest. These too are sacred movements. And may the bowls of your heart overflow with gratitude today and in all the days to come.

Grandma's bowls