Francesca
Today is November 27, 2025. The turkey is in the oven, the house smells like herbs, brown sugar, and cinnamon, the candles are lit, and everything feels a little slower, a little softer. Before we carve the bird or fight over the last dinner roll, I need to stop and let my heart say what it’s been carrying all year.
This Thanksgiving, more than anything else, I’m grateful for how much closer I’ve grown to Jesus. It’s the one thing that changes everything else. The closer I walk with Him, the clearer it becomes: this is the only relationship I truly need to pour everything into. When He’s at the center, being kind stops feeling like effort and starts feeling like overflow. Judging others? It fades. Comparing? It loses its power. I’m learning to keep my eyes on my own path, my own heart, my own marriage, my own calling — and trust that God is handling everyone else’s story perfectly.
I’m grateful for my work — work that actually lights me up inside. This year brought opportunities I never saw coming, growth that stretched me, lessons that humbled me, and wins that still make me tear up when I think about them. Every late night, every new skill, every “I’m so proud of you” — it was all grace in disguise.
I’m grateful for my marriage, this sacred, daily, beautiful thing we keep building together. We choose each other every single morning — in the good moods and the grumpy ones, in prayer, in laughter, hard conversations, and quiet nights on the couch. It’s not flawless, but it’s healthy, it’s holy, and it’s ours. Looking back at everything we’ve walked through hand-in-hand this year makes my eyes well up. What a gift to be married to my safe place.
I’m grateful for my family — my parents and my sister — the roots that keep me steady no matter how strong the wind blows. Their love never wavers, never keeps score, and always celebrates my victories like they’re their own.
I’m grateful for every single hard thing 2025 threw at us. Yes, even the brutal ones. The nights I cried in the shower, the questions that kept me awake, the seasons I thought I wouldn’t make it through. They became my classroom. They taught me how to fall on my knees when I had nothing left in me. They turned my fragile faith into something unshakable — because I’ve seen God be faithful when every circumstance screamed the opposite. He has never failed me. Not once.
I’m grateful for the trips, the lazy weekends, the little and big victories, the sunsets I actually stopped to watch, and the health to enjoy it all.
I’m grateful for the real friends — the rare, faithful, ride-or-die brothers and sisters God placed in my life. The ones who pray for me without being asked, who call me out when I’m wrong and love me harder two minutes later, who send 5-minute voice notes that feel like hugs. You know exactly who you are, and I love you bigger than words.
This Thanksgiving isn’t really about the turkey or the pumpkin pie (though I will fight anyone for the corner piece with extra whipped cream). It’s about looking back at the last 11 months of 2025 and realizing every single part — the mountain tops and the valleys — was being woven into a story far more beautiful than I could have written myself.
So here’s to full tables, loud laughter, and hearts even fuller. Here’s to choosing gratitude not just today, but every ordinary day after this one.
Happy Thanksgiving, from the bottom of my overflowing heart. 🧡
With love,
Chicca Trends (Francesca)