11/28/2025
The American “Pause” Button: Time, Turkey, Testimony, Thanksgiving
By Otunba T J Abass
Every day, America is on the move. She wakes up before dawn, jumps into the shower, grabs her keys, and drives straight to her 9-5; she sits in the boardroom and chases deadlines; she grinds through long shifts, driving Uber, running DoorDash orders, lifting heavy boxes on Amazon, Walmart, Cosco, Target, FedEx, everywhere. Then around a 365-day cycle, Thanksgiving quietly walks in and presses the “pause” button. The noise immediately fades, and the nations halts for a brief moment, not to look ahead for the next win, but to look back with gratitude on for what has already been accomplished, what has already been survived.
On this Thanksgiving occasion, I hold hands with millions of other Americans as we lean into this culture of gratitude. The Thanksgiving is like a beaded necklace. The turkey on the family table, the feasting, the pies, the holiday, the traveling, the family reunions, the Black Friday sales, the deals and discounts, and the laughter are all pieces of bead held together by a single thread – the thread of gratitude.
Thanksgiving is a spiritual exercise, a recognition that God’s presence has been steady, even when our hearts felt restless. Thanksgiving is a recognition that grace has a way of showing up like unexpected light on a cloudy morning.
Among all the Thanksgiving traditions, the presidential turkey pardon at the White House is the one that has pulled my attention the most. It’s simple but symbolic: a whole ceremony built around compassion, forgiveness, and the idea that a new beginning is possible. The turkey is spared and sent back to the farm, and that small act carries a big meaning. This tradition has taken on an extra meaning for me in the last two years: a gratitude for my new lease of life. It echoes my personal pardon, my release from the clutch of death just like the presidential turkey.
I am reminded that life can throw curveballs at the most unexpected times. Yet in the middle of all that, God still shows up with second chances. He opens doors we thought were shut. He gives room for healing, room for growth, room to stand up again.
Everyone, at some point, experiences God’s mercy, His compassion, mercy, and gift of second chances. Like the pardoned turkey, spared from death, we often find ourselves given a fresh start when hope seems lost.
This symbolism reflects my journey over the past two years. I was hit with the news that shook the ground under my feet: a diagnosis of an aggressive, metastatic cancer, and many people already wrote me off. Yet, while others counted me out, my Creator did not. He rewrote my story and gave me another chance to live, thrive, and give thanks.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am wrapped in God’s grace, grateful to still be here after two difficult years when hope felt thin and the future uncertain.
It has been almost two years since I first heard that life-altering diagnosis. A diagnosis that people often whisper about, a diagnosis that feels like a final sentence. The initial sense of trepidation and overwhelming apprehension that accompanied it was only natural.
These years have been a mix of deep fear and deep faith. Yet, through it all, God has been on my side. Surrounded by a remarkable team of medical professionals and dedicated oncologists at the MD Anderson Cancer Center, and strengthened by the unwavering support of my family, friends, and loved ones, I stand today among the blessed, grateful to witness yet another Thanksgiving.
This Thanksgiving weighs heavily. It affords me yet another opportunity to do what I have devoted myself to for the past 40 years — feeding people experiencing homelessness, alongside the Eko Club Houston annual outreach.
Standing on the serving line, offering hope and a warm meal to those in need in our society, fills me with a deep sense of fulfillment. It reminds me of how blessed and fortunate I am to participate in this year’s program, and it stands as a living affirmation of God’s unwavering love for me.
Finally, as the clock ticks away and Thanksgiving passes, my hope is that gratitude remains with us. May the spirit of service not pack its bags and leave with the holiday. May the laughter not fade. May the joy not slip away until the next cycle when Thanksgiving returns. And when she does, may she find that everything she left with us is still intact. Cheers to life, to living, and to serving. Happy Thanksgiving!
