ADVENT

 

This year seems to be on a bobsled race.  It is rushing past me at an ever increasing speed such that I can barely see what is passing.  It is Christmastime already.  Today is the first Sunday of Advent.

 

A young woman behind the coffee counter said to me this week that she is not looking forward to the time in her life when the holidays mean work, not joy.  Something in my earlier overwhelmed response to her had cued her in to my state of mind.  I want the holidays to mean joy too!  But honestly, my spirit was not excited about the season we are entering into but rather dreading it.

 

Selecting, purchasing, wrapping, mailing thoughtful, meaningful presents on a limited budget.  Decorating, baking, creating a warm holiday atmosphere…Christmas cards, letters, notes, stocking stuffers…creating space for my family to rest, catch their spiritual breath and look to Jesus…

 

Sadly, it doesn’t sound fun to me.  It sounds like work; a job that I don’t currently feel up to.

 

With my heart discouraged, I went and worshiped God and then poured out my heart to Him.  Here’s what I wrote in my journal.

 

“Lord, it is a lot of work and I get stressed.  Now we are entering Advent and Christmas.  And I feel such pressure.  To make it lovely, holy, meaningful, traditional, warm, safe, cozy, smell good, relaxed, happy, festive, pretty – and try to stay centered on You.  It’s kind of hard for me.

 

Simplify.

 

How?

 

All of it.  All of it.

 

(This was followed by a time of simply worshiping Him, fixing the gaze of my heart on His beauty….then…)

 

I love You, God.  Thank You for your faithfulness to me and mine.  I need You.  You’re lovely, holy, meaningful, warm, safe…You are everything good and wonderful and enticing and longed for about Christmas.  You are who and what we want and are trying to capture.

 

I want You.

 

You are my Christmas.”

 

Big breath.  Thank you Jesus.

 

So last night, we decorated our Christmas tree.  It’s a fun thing to do and yes, a lot of work.  But somehow last night, it wasn’t work at all.  We had the Christmas carols playing on the stereo and laughed and chatted easily as we hung our mostly precious and sometimes silly ornaments on the tree.  We were unhurried yet finished in record time and none of us was exhausted from it.

 

Once done, we turned off all the lights and sat together on the sofa enjoying the beauty of the tree.  Spontaneously, we began to sing along with the carols.  We were accompanied by Amy Grant, Nat King Cole, Josh Groban.  We ended with our hands lifted in worship.  Oh Praise Him!

 

When the songs went silent, we stayed silent as well and then began to ruminate about Jesus.  “Can you imagine what a great singing voice Jesus has?!”.  “Wouldn’t it be great if Jesus returned on Christmas?!”.  “At the wedding feast, what do you think the table will be made of?”.

 

Holy moments.  Not stress filled.  Just given to us from our extravagant Father who is the giver of every good gift. “You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.” Psalm 145:10

 

Simplify.  Invite the one who came.  Who is coming again.  Who is always coming to us.  Oh yes, Jesus.  Come again today.  We love you.

Bedtime Rituals

When our sons were young and it was time to get ready for bed, we would announce, “Time for jammies and teeth!”  They used to wear John’s old T-shirts as jammies.  They were soft and comfortable and fell to their knees or lower.  Now, all three sons have outgrown my husband’s tees. 

 

For some reason, they liked to brush their teeth in our bathroom, not theirs.  So our sink was surrounded not only by our various accoutrements, but their three boyish toothbrushes and toothpaste as well.  John’s a TOM’S man…something one son has inherited but at the time their toothpaste sparkled and had various super heroes on the cover.  We wondered why they wouldn’t use their own sink…but understood that this was a sweet season that would pass all too quickly.  We enjoyed the chaos.

 

Once tucked in bed, we would bless them.  Every single night.  And they would bless us right back.

 

“The LORD bless you and keep you.

The LORD make his face to shine upon you

And give you peace.”

 

Samuel initiated making the sign of the cross on the forehead at the beginning of the blessing and more than a decade later, the little ritual has stuck.

 

Often times, after blessing, one or more of our boys would ask to “snuggle”.  This was the crucial moment.  We would be exhausted.  Done.  Finished.  Ready for bed ourselves.  They would be ready to talk…share about their day, experiences, thoughts.  Precious moments.  Golden moments.

 

“Sure honey, we can snuggle” (pronounced schnuggle).

 

Sometimes, I would sing the blessing to them instead of speak it.  Sometimes I would make up lullabies and sing those to them as well.

 

The other night, I was talking with our oldest son over the phone – he’s on a Europe semester traveling all over the continent, experiencing so much but so far away.  As we were saying our goodbyes, I said, wait,

 

“The LORD bless you and keep you.

The LORD make his face to shine upon you

And give you peace.”

 

I could feel his smile. 

 

I am so happy at the moment.  My mother’s heart so full.  Our youngest, Luke, 16 years old, after blessing him tonight, began to sing the blessing to me.  I finished it up and then snuggled next to him and continued singing and humming to him– remembering the old lullabies from years past. He remembered.  He loved it.  I loved it. 

 

Oh.  It all matters!

 

 

JESUS IN YOGURTLAND

We just returned home from visiting our middle son Blaine at college.  It was such a good visit!  Oh, to kiss the cheek of my son!  Blaine had told us about a place called Yogurtland that he really liked and thought I’d really like.  OK.  Really love.  He was right!  It is a frozen yogurt paradise!

 

We went three times in two days.  I have officially had my frozen yogurt fix for quite some time. 

So the first time we go, we brought three of Blaine’s new friends with us and as is my custom, I head first to the bathroom which is hiding at the way back of the store.  The men’s room had a sign on it saying it’s broken and I run into one of my son’s friends waiting to use the facilities looking longingly at the women’s restroom door.  I open the women’s bathroom to test the all clear and open it on a man with his back to me, doing what he needed to.  Quickly I close the door and tell his friend what happened.  He finds this very funny and we both crack up.  Then he says, “Here, let me stand in front of you and he’ll think it was me.”  He was so quick to say that – so considerate.  I thanked him.  Then the guy comes out.  Turns out he is really, really drunk.  He challenges the young man to make sure he was next in line.  I assure him he was and wait.

 

The man begins to talk to me incoherently in a really loud voice, unsteady on his feet and I am not quite sure what to do.  I know that feeling well.  How to love here?  What to do?  Jesus?  Then it’s my turn to use the facilities.

 

When I come out, my young friend has gotten the inebriated guy a frozen yogurt sample.  He is loving it.  He wants some more.  He is getting louder.  He becomes more and more animated.  He starts going up to nearby tables and offering customers unintelligable pearls of wisdom and shots of vodka.  I go look to see if there is a manager to help out here before a scene erupts and the guy ends up in jail.

 

When I walk back to where we were, I see something I hope to not forget.  My son’s friend, 18 years old, is holding two large samples of frozen yogurt in each hand luring the man out of the restaurant and out of trouble.  In his eyes, I see the kindness of Jesus and the longing to do well by the man in an uncomfortable and tenuous situation.  He leads the guy out like the Pied Piper.

 

I didn’t know what to do but he did.  He loved him.

What I Like and What I Don't

My friend Julie introduced me to sprinkling cinammon on top of the coffee grounds before making the coffee.  When the coffee maker has worked its magic, I add a little cream and voila.  Happiness in a cup!  I am now ready for my day!  I enjoy beginning my morning with a really good cup of coffee.

 

I also like slippers.  Soft, cushy, fluffy, preferably pink slippers.  Unfortunately, so does my dog.  That I don’t like so much.

 

I love cool mornings and sunny days and light breezes.  I love the change of seasons and the memories they evoke of what has been and of what is coming.   Now Autumn, I love the quickly changing colors of the aspens and the scrub oak.  Green this morning, golden tonight.  Tomorrow, blown off their branches by the increasing wind.   That, I don’t like so much.

 

But okay, bare branches against the sky possess their own unique beauty.  And in the frost of Winter, when they are laced with ice, they will glisten with a shimmering artistry.  I like that.  I do.

 

It’s slipping on the ice that I don’t like so much.

 

Two sides to a coin.  I like more than I don’t.  There is a beauty to every season of the year as with every season of my life.  Today, the flickering of the leaves in the wind and the rushing waterfall sound they make, remind me that though I can’t hold on to the moment as I would like, God is in it.  And he is in the next one too.

 

I like that very much.