by jphilo | Jan 1, 2010 | Family
As our kids get older, as their work and school schedules get more demanding, and as their family circles expand, it gets hard to find a time to celebrate Christmas together. But somehow we managed, and by Wednesday afternoon, everyone arrived for four days of food, family and fun.
Four days may not seem like much, but it’s enough for me. In fact, for the past two frigid mornings, while I walked by the light of a blue moon, my heart overflowed with gratitude for this oasis of common hours, something I thought would never be part of our family life.
Seven years ago we gave up all hope of gatherings like these. In the course of those seven years I made peace with our family’s reality – yearly visits to the monastery where our son lived and quiet home celebrations with our daughter. By God’s grace I let go of old expectations of a house overflowing with young people and their energy.
Then one year ago, without warning or premonition, everything changed. God restored the expectations we had surrendered to him. Soon, our son and our daughter brought two new young people into the family circle, and they’ve already become dear to us.
Every time we’re together, mindfulness of how much God has restored to us changes the way I think. I am learning to be grateful, not just once in a blue moon, but every day of my life. Instead of worrying about the chaos or the grocery bills, I give thanks for the commotion. Instead of complaining about how quickly the hours fly by, I savor each moment. If we can only be together once in a blue moon, I am grateful for the opportunity. After all, that’s more than I ever expected, more than I imagined or conceived.
So this noisy day I am grateful for a busy house, the dishwasher running almost constantly, Riley the dog, mounds of laundry, and for a three-degrees-above-zero morning walk by the light of a lovely blue moon.
God, make me grateful tomorrow, too, and every day of 2010.
by jphilo | Dec 18, 2009 | Current Events
For the past twenty-four hours, winter storm warnings have been flying around faster than snowflakes in a blizzard. The forecast inspired Anne to drive home last night instead of waiting until morning.
This morning, I peeked out the window, expecting a cloudy sky, a little wind, and a little snow to greet me. Instead, a bright sunrise blazed through the branches of the spruce trees in the back yard. Even now, three hours later, the sky is a clear winter blue and the tree branches are still, still, still.
But the forecasters promise a storm this afternoon, snow in the north part of the state, ice in the south, and a mixture of the two in the middle of the state where we live. I hope it waits until after noon when I visit my mentee over the lunch hour. We haven’t seen each other for three weeks, what with the West Virginia excursion, and I want to see her before Christmas and plan a time next week for us to bake treats for her family.
Then the storm can hit. We’ve got DVDs to watch, popcorn to pop, and five years of catching up to do around here. It’s not a storm warning at our house; it’s a blessing, one I intend to savor.
by jphilo | Dec 26, 2007 | Current Events
We didn’t have much wrapping paper to throw away this Christmas because the presents were quite small. With a daughter in college, we’d planned a low key Christmas. When the furnace went out, we downgraded to frugal. The day before Christmas when Hiram’s chain saw breathed its last breath we ramped lower, to practical gifts only.
There were advantages to such a Christmas. Expectations were low. Like I said before, there wasn’t much mess to clean up after we opened gifts. I don’t need to buy paper or bows next year because there are plenty left. And all three of us paid more attention to stocking stuffers that made practical gifts.
Anne wandered through the house last week hunting for fingernail polish remover. We didn’t have any, at least until she emptied her Christmas stocking. She couldn’t find a Sharpie marker either, so guess what Hiram and I got? When Anne’s at college, Hiram’s constantly asking me to read the fine print on packaging which I can’t see any better than he can. So the magnifying glass that caught my semi-blind eyes as I searched Target for cheap, practical gifts ended up in his stocking.
Hiram remembered our last bout without power and the mad scramble to find flashlights, none of which worked. So he got me two new ones, complete with batteries. That’s a pretty neat trick. When we have working flashlights we don’t lose power, so we’re set for the rest of the winter.
To prove that we have flashlights, Anne snapped this picture of me on Christmas morning. Which brings me to the last practical gift possibility. Between my expression and bed head, anybody who reads this blog has potential blackmail material which could fund future Christmases. But you might as well wait to blackmail me until after the bills are paid. Unless, of course, you need flashlights. Then you can contact me right away. I’ll fork over the flashlights and get directions to your house so we can move in with you when our power goes off.
Don’t worry, we’ll make ourselves useful reading all your fine print. The magnifying glass is already packed.
