Every day should be a day of acknowledging blessings, but November claims the month set apart for giving thanks to God. If busy schedules don’t manipulate all of our time, it is the month that I find myself — more often — pondering God’s blessings — many that I can easily take for granted.

November is the month that begins true intimidation by the bathroom scales. Blame the sense of taste. Did I say blame? I shouldn’t. It’s a special God-given sense that calls us to second helpings of dressing with gravy and just one more small sliver of the pecan or pumpkin pie. The usual bounty of selections on that day of celebration offers a vast medley of tastes. It’s a taste bud jubilee!

One of the biggest culprits associated with the COVID virus was its ability to attack taste buds and render them incapable of their purpose. Some were affected for a few days while others continued to suffer for months with taste buds that were inoperative. Many learned to count the sense of taste as a wonderful blessing.

November offers a key month to give thanks for the sense of sight. The landscapes around our Mississippi homes offer a tapestry of fall beauty to take in with the gift of sight. Not only our surroundings are endless sights, but so are the faces of family and friends. I can recall childhood moments when we siblings would get in a discussion about what sense they would most hate to lose. Sight always won as the #1 sense that would mean the greatest loss.

Football fans have worked their cheers into maximum capacity by November. The roars of the crowds can be heard for miles. Sometimes the noise seems an illegal deterrent to the players on the field, but I can’t ever remember thanking God for the ability to hear noise. What a silent world the deaf inhabit. What thanksgiving all of us who enjoy the sense of hearing should feel and express.

Othel and I recently enjoyed a fall festival in the mountains. The variety of crafts and “stuff” were displayed under tents that covered a rolling pasture spread. I saw works of great skill and talent and items from incredible creative minds. Yet, even as our eyes were taking in all the sights, our sense of smell lured us to the aromas of freshly made kettle corn, onions and pepper sizzling on open grills, and skewers of steak bites browning on giant griddles. Our sense of smell allows us a catalog of aromas. I thank God for that sense.

The sense of touch serves us in multiple ways. Our skin tells us how close to stand next to a fire, when a shoe is about to rub a blister, and when it’s time to check a child’s temperature. If the shirt is soft or rough, our skin will notify us. A soft fall breeze refreshes us — thanks to our sense of touch. A bear hug, the softness of a baby’s cheek, and the grasp of a toddler’s hand can trigger wonderful emotions that are initiated by the sense of touch.

There they are — the blessings of the five senses. The Psalmist comprehended the miracle of 

 those senses: “I praise You because of the wonderful way You created me.” I cannot comprehend how those senses will be expanded to match the glories of the Christian’s eternal home.

Letters to Camille Anding may be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS 39602.