Advent Part 3: Peace

This is the week I usually lose it. I lose the wonder and the calm. The measured pace as we progress toward Christmas Day. I start realizing how much is still undone. I start staying up later and later. Working harder and harder.

About this time last year, on a crazy evening when all three kids were going 3 different directions and leaving a trail of chaos and noise behind, my doorbell rang. Our neighbors were at the door with yummy cookies, warm wishes for the season and a gift. I unwrapped a dove-shaped Christmas ornament made at an art program for kids with special needs and inner-city kids. It had the word "peace" stamped on it in wobbly letters. peace. now. in this chaotic moment.

"Don't forget," my heart whispered, as I hung it on our tree in humbled silence. Peace. Delivered to my door by friends. Crafted by a child. Whispered to my heart by the Prince of Peace. A word and a promise so needed today. It's worth saying again (I need to hear it as much as anyone): it's not about the gifts and the cookies and the cards and the decorations. It's much bigger and far more profound than that. What's most needed by all humanity is within reach. peace. now and forever in our hearts and minds. in our homes and relationships. between neighbors and nations. Let it be-- now and always starting with me.

Advent Part 2: God in the Mess

Back in late October the kids and I took a trip to the zoo. One last trip for the season to enjoy the sparkling sunshine and golden leaves. We had a good time and ended by playing on the playground. I brought my camera, just in case. While watching the kids play, I saw another mom sit her two very young children on a bench with a golden tree above and colorful leaves all around. She snapped several pictures of her smiling, calm, attentive children and they went on to play.

I was inspired to try to follow her lead. Sure the kids were in crazy clothes, but I wanted to be in the moment. The moment could still be magical, right?

You can imagine me trying to prompt, cajole, encourage, demand...here are just a few of my attempts.





We never did get a good picture.

What does this have to do with Advent?

Well. Real life is messy. Even at Christmas. For some reason, I seem to try extra hard to smooth the wrinkles of real life. I want everyone to be happy. Thankful. Every activity to be joyful and filled with wonder. Everyone looking at the camera and smiling in coordinating outfits in my clean house with the laundry done, perfect decorations. The right gifts. Christmas cards mailed with short, meaningful personal notes to each recipient.

Reality crashes in. Everything isn't really ruined. It's just so...normal. My kids are my kids. My house is my house. Not the movie kids or the magazine house. The decorations are the same as last year. And yet, there is something special and set apart about this season.

It's the reality that God's Son entered our world. Our reality. Our mess. He became human and dependent. Fragile. He was born in a very common place. Not terribly clean. His parents were new at this whole thing. God came to us. He wanted to. He stayed. He let us mess up. He still loved us. He lived and laid down his life for messy people like me.

Emanuel. It means "God with us." Perhaps, this year, Christmas is not for trying to cover the mess or wish for perfection. Perhaps it is to wonder at a God who knows the depth of my mess better than anyone and still showed up. Still loved. Still holds out his hand to me and you.

Maybe my idea of a "perfect Christmas" will transform from cleaning up messes to looking around and pondering the idea that God is here with me right now.

Advent Part 1: Light

Last Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent. Advent has different meanings for different people. For my oldest daughter, it means chocolate. She loves the $0.99 cardboard calendar that has chocolate behind every window.

For me, it's been a lot of things. Few of them have really been full of meaning, honestly. It's been formal. A tradition (which is not a bad thing). An attempt at being purposeful in a season where meaning can get swept away in business and good intentions.

The more I've heard people I respect talking about it--particularly this year--the more it's finally absorbing into my soul. We've observed Advent a little differently each and every year it's been a part of our family's traditions. This year, we're taking a little bit of time at a Sunday meal to light a candle and talk about the story of the first Christmas. I think I was hoping that sharing the story with my kids would make it more meaningful to me--fill my soul. It's brought the story to life. There's nothing like holding a baby on Christmas to make you think about that young mother and another miracle baby so long ago. For me, I'm realizing that sharing the story with our kids is just one part of the Advent experience.

Here's what I'm doing this year. I'm focusing on just one word each week. This week (yes, I know it's Friday already...) I've been focusing on the the word Light. Advent uses light and darkness to capture the essence of the season. We are in the days of dwindling light before Winter Solstice on December 21. The more frequent grey days are very affecting for me--how about you? Each minute of true sunlight and blue sky is so needed and refreshing. We need light. We need it. Sunlight impacts our body's ability to process vitamins. It affects our very being. Our chemistry.

What about our souls? Jesus was called "the light of the world." My soul has been following the seasons. Getting darker and colder and stiff. Wanting to hibernate. I need the light. I need it to warm my soul. Soften the hard places. Light the places that are void. Show me where my soul needs some more attention. Burn away the impurities. I want to relax into the light--like laying on a warm beach letting the sun soak deeply into my skin.

I think Advent is observed over weeks because we (at least I) need time to move from darkness to light. From the hard, deep, cold into warmth. It doesn't happen in one day. In one meal. In one observance. It's a daily process to soak into our souls and bring us back to life. Back from the dark nights of our souls into the light.

Welcome to the light. Jesus. Please bring light to my soul.

When is an apron more than an apron?

When it's an invitation to create.
When it's a bridge from childhood to womanhood.
When it transports you to another kitchen in another time filled with smells and voices and memories.
When it makes it safe to be messy.
When it is part of awakening your imagination.
When it is the first step in making new memories.
When it makes you feel pretty.
When it makes you feel brave.
When it becomes an heirloom to hand down to a little girl in your life (stains and all).

Put on an apron and get messy with someone you love. Here's a lovely blog with a fun muffin recipe.

If a little one in your life doesn't have an apron, you can order one from my shop and give a very special gift for the holidays.

(This is an apron of my mom's I've worn since I was a little girl learning to bake. I wore it to help in the kitchen this Thanksgiving.)