The O’Briens

Thanksgiving: November 2005 (reprinted from Life Times Magazine, Amabassador Productions Ltd., Belfast)
By Talitha Loughlin



As my husband Sam and I drove over the cattle grid, past the steamed-up kitchen window, our bright red van caught the eye of Yvonne who came running out though the front door clutching baby Aidan, to greet us. With a big kiss on the cheek I was welcomed, followed by, "All right, sweetie, fancy a cuppa?" My dear, close friend was a lady after my own heart. Fabulous, fabulous echoed though the house and we were soon joined by Grady followed by Liam, Rory, and Maisie.

They all looked so smart with their colour coordinated outfits and new haircuts ready for the cameras. Most kids run a mile when mum comes wielding a large pair of scissors and a bowl, but not in this house. Its always designer haircuts, with years of experience as an art director for Tony and Guy under Yvonne's belt style is never a problem.

The mood was one of excitement. "Happy Thanksgiving, guys" said Sam, clutching an overnight bag and goodies under his arm. With that, Steve the photographer arrived. We knew that after all the hard work we would get to join in the Thanksgiving meal. Our mutt Indie took the lead into the house and made herself comfortable on the sofa, this was her second home.

Before long Grady and Yvonne were scurrying around in the kitchen knocking up some fantastic, tongue tantalising delight. It's never a rich tea biscuit or a custard cream in this house. Grady owned a restaurant called The Dream Café in the USA, so I suppose knocking up a quick blackberry crumble and café latte was 'no problem' to him; although I am never quite sure who is the best cook, as Yvonne always rustles us up gourmet delights, and she was the chef in charge of the Thanksgiving feast.



The very arty coat rack that one of them had, obviously constructed out of an old piece of distressed wood and pretty hooks, distracted me. What caught my eye was not the deep warm green, although the richness of the colour was quite impressive. No, it was the hat. Yes, I found myself reminiscing, off in my own little dream world for just a few minutes.

The words of a song started to spring up into my mind: "Where ever I lay my hat, that's my home." As a child I remember long journeys in the car with my mum and dad's worn-out selection of old tapes and a tin of boiled sweets coated in icing sugar. I used to put my fingers in my ears desperately trying to drown out yet another tune from Dire Straits, The Carpenters, or Neil Diamond, that played time and time again.

My time warp was shattered as a latte was thrust into my hand. "Awful hat, isn't it? He insists on hanging it there, doesn't go with the coats at all," proclaimed Yvonne in disbelief! As a stylist, I could catch her point; she knew I would be a sympathetic ear. "O, Yvonne, I love my hat, it keeps my ears warm. Hey babes, I love you, you're so cute" egged on by Sam, Grady laughed as he winked at me, teasing her.

Grady and Yvonne both smiled at each other as I admired the funky coat with green fur and turquoise check decoratively hanging like a piece of art. I had one of those deep moments, thinking to myself how relevant the words of the song were in their lives when a light turned on in my memory. That was it, name that tune in one, Paul Young. Grady had laid down his hat and he and his family were home.

The thought provoked a question, "Where is home?" I asked Yvonne. She was originally from Southern Ireland and had spent years in America including Dallas, Texas where she met Grady, led him to the Lord and married him. Grady's ancestors were from Ireland and as a single man he visited Northern Ireland. A photograph of him at the Giants Causeway hangs proudly on their bedroom wall. Whilst in Ireland for their honeymoon, he just fell in love with the place.

I followed her into the kitchen for some girlie time, whilst the guys took themselves off in the garden outhouse. I said again, "Where is home, Yvonne?" "Home is a place called there," she said, her eyes were filled with joyous tears.

As a couple they had followed Jesus everywhere he had sent them, they were international globetrotters. Umm, I thought, as I digested her words, 'home is a place called there.' So there, was in him, Jesus, and the confidence that God was in them, with them and for them. I got it, Jesus was their home, anchor, and fixed heavenly abode.

She shared with me how God had led them to this beautiful, quaint 100-year-old farmhouse in Broughshane. When viewing the property for rent the agent pointed out that there was a ravens nest by the house and warned them of the noise. For Yvonne, this was a reminder of the promise of God and for his provision as she thought about how Elijah was fed by the ravens.

Hey nice coffee machine, that's new. "Yes, it's Grady's gift from Jesus. Grady saw the machine in a rather swanky shop and thought to himself how much he would like it. A few days later it arrived at the house as a gift," she said, with a smile and utter delight.

It looked great in the French-feel kitchen that had been done up on a budget of Ł40. Tile paint accompanied by four tester pots colour-washed the walls. A razor and pan scourers were used to give a distressed finish as part of the old tiles were exposed. Tea towel fabric on wooden dowels fills in where the original doors were missing and the old strip lighting was covered by chicken mesh for a softer look to the room. The bare face on an old refrigerator was disguised and jazzed up by a piece of plywood covered in blackboard paint.

The day passed by so fast, there was so much to talk about, so much to catch up on. Life for the O'Brien's was full, what with the recent move in April from Galway, kids starting their new Christian School in Ballymena, and the opening of Charis Bible College in September (www.cbcireland.org). The family's feet had hardly touched the ground and there was so much to give thanks for.

With anticipation I stood by wearing my elasticised skirt and loose top to ensure enough room for all the grub. My heart was moved as I saw the love of Jesus made manifest in this family and their lives as they gave thanks. It was time to praise God for his faithfulness, provision, direction, love, grace, and tender mercies. After all, that's what Thanksgiving is all about. It was time to feast!

The room was filled with talk of all that God had done, how he led them from being graduates of Charis Bible College in America and England to establish a new work in Co Antrim. Matthew 4:19, "Come, follow me, Jesus said, and I will make you fishers of men." With 20 students dedicated to learning and teaching the good news we celebrated Jesus, our good news. As I left the next day, I smiled reading the handwritten plaque over the door: "You are about to enter the mission field."


Maisie following in Yvonne’s footsteps, keeping the family craft of knitting alive.


To see some Thanksgiving Meal recipes click here.