Getting Real - A Thanksgiving Confession

“’Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house you could feel the tension mounting from my handsome OCD spouse.”


That could have been the opening line to a poem titled, “The Night Before Thanksgiving.” It could also have been aptly named, “World War P". The “P” standing for “Phillips” because let me tell you, it was on like donkey kong in our house last week. The blog went silent. But our house got loud.


Brad and I resolved not to use the “D” word early on in our marriage. No divorce. We vowed ‘til death do us part. But last week was so bad that I believe Brad had a fleeting thought of “Well, I could start a prison ministry.” Because although divorce is not an option, homicide was to be taken under consideration.


We are madly in love with each other. But some days we are just mad. Last week was just a mad week. A week we’re not proud of. A week we are recovering from. A week where we needed forgiveness given and received. And all on the same week where I talked about how much my family LOOOOOOOOVES each other on Studio7.  I just had to go and talk about our deep love and forgiveness for one another – I couldn’t have known we were on the verge of the marital apocalypse that ensued the days to follow. What did we fight about? You ask. Oh, who but satan in hell, knows. It was stupid, petty, silliness. The sort of things that mount up around the holidays in families that are too busy and too tired and too sick to function properly.


This week we are rising from the ashes. We prayed together – twice. We are working our way back to laughing and smiling. We are taking our feelings off our shoulders, putting on our grown up panties and communicating clearly. We are not just going to survive the holidays. We are going to thrive. We are going to give honor and glory to God for sending His Son to be a love sacrifice for our sins. And we’re going to be attacked viciously by a real, live, raging Enemy who wants, more than anything, to watch Christian couples crumble, fall and finally fail at this marriage thing (because marriage is God’s idea and Satan wants to mess up what God has joined together).


So to all of you who had a similar Thanksgiving week experience, know that I am praying for you and that you're not alone. We didn't have that picture perfect Thanksgiving meal where everyone is dressed beautifully and sits down to eat at a table for 12 set by Martha Stewart herself. Brad and I didn't even sit by each other during our Thanksgiving meal. We sat in different rooms! You're NOT alone! Also know that I am praying for your marriage. God’s mercies are new and available to us every day. Every day is a new chance for a miracle of love and forgiveness to enter your heart, mind, marriage, life.


Look for the miracle. Be the miracle. And let’s be so together and in love with our spouse on Christmas day that it shakes the foundation of hell.

 Don’t give up.

 Keep going!


 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,

Because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

“Therefore I hope in Him!”

Lamentations 3:22-24



Jessica Phillips

Jessica is worshiper and follower of Jesus. He rescued her heart at age 6 but he rescued her calling, purpose and direction in her early 20's. Everyday God is still writing Jessica's story. It involves her husband, Brad, her daughter, Emery, their extended families. But the story is a tale of loss of life and dark grief. And the story ebs and weaves and the grief story is followed by weddings and laughter. And what comes next? A Baby! God sends us a baby to shape and teach and grow right in the midst of our loss and realizing that life actually moves forward. We didn't think it would again after he died. But life just did what it was supposed to do...and it went on. And hope is born again. Everything I write is based on this fact: I'm God's child, I'm alive today. So what do You want me to do for You? Because I want my contribution to matter. I want to leave a legacy.