We are not nearly as cool as the Holderness family, but to get some great ideas for next year, watch their video Christmas card.
Click here:
Christmas Jammies
I am thankful for creative friends who whip up something beautiful for the Thanksgiving luncheon and then share their handiwork with me!
Last week I had the privilege of going to a friend's house to discuss Lysa Terkeurst's book What Happens When Women Say Yes to God? My friend shared the warmth of her home, her hugs, her spiced tea, and love for Jesus. As I sat by her fire, I realized what a gift it is to have an evening with like-minded friends.
Thursday morning we watched the Macy's parade and prepared sweet potatoes for Thanksgiving at my Mom's house. To my mom, "to love you is to feed you" and she always lays out an amazing spread. We are so thankful that she enjoys hosting us every year.
We are thankful for my sister-in-law's skilled surgical hands put to use by carving the infra-red turkey, my father-in-law's willingness to always say grace, and for the grace that covers all our sin (even when one of our kids breaks a glass before leaving the table).
I am thankful that my daughters enjoy baking so that they can help out in the holiday festivities.
I am thankful for a member of my Pilates class who surprised me with gifts of pumpkin breads and an even kinder gift of kind words. I am thankful for the Turkey Burn "taster" of classes at the gym tomorrow, so that I can get back on track of becoming svelte again. I keep forgetting my original intention which each holiday flavor that crosses my path.
I am thankful that my kids like to sit on the couch and halfway watch Charlie Brown specials on tv and It's A Wonderful Life so that I can enjoy moments of nostalgia. We very rarely watch tv together, so I am completely drawn into sappy holiday commercials like the ones from Publix and Johnson and Johnson. Messages like, "Mom, you are doing okay" and "Even if the day was not flawless, it was perfect" warm my heart.
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| Publix Thanksgiving Commercial 2013 |
I mute Black Friday blaring announcements and spend one more day in gratitude for all that we already have.
I think I have already had my apex moment of the season, before it has officially begun.
We wanted to start Thanksgiving week with gratitude for what we have been given, and created a family gratitude tree from the branches of a potted tree that died during the first cold snap. We've added paper leaves for the things that we are thankful for, and my children mentioned God, "Jeasus" (that must be the way His name sounds to a child growing up in the South), and family.
We gathered everyone together to discuss how we could give and serve this season before any wish lists for ourselves were drawn up. I wanted to hold off until the turkey had been served before racing down that wrapping paper strewn road. Kids spent the day practicing "Silent Night" in high octaves on the piano. Daughters made minty fudge and cookies for the neighbors and teachers. A son drew me a picture in oil pastel and happily strummed on his guitar. Kids played with neighbors in the yard. Gifts given, shared, not just the ones bought.
After dinner together (!) the kids flipped through catalogues of needs and voted to give gifts of education to orphans, help for those devastated by the typhoon in the Phillipines, and funds toward the rescue of young girls sold as slaves around the world. I was proud of them for caring for others. Deeply satisfied that that were catching, incrementally, what living beyond yourself (and not just living beyond your means) looks like.
We made plans to ring the bell for the Salvation Army, gather and sort can goods for Harvest Hope, perform in our church's Singing Christmas Tree, take care of kids in the nursery, mail shoeboxes, search for a mission trip we could go on as a family this year, and send the youth to build a house with World Changers.
All of this was fine and well when there seemed to be little personal sacrifice involved. Then my husband decided to ask what they thought about spending the money we would have spent on ourselves on those in genuine need. One boy melted my heart with a quick, yes. "I don't really need anything this year." The other four, to their credit, were honest. "Can I have some time to think about this?" "I don't really know." "Do you want an honest answer, or to hear what I am supposed to say?"
We prayed that God would teach us how to give of ourselves and to others. To grow us from where we are.
Then, with my heart bursting in maternal affection, I allowed each child to draw the name of another sibling out of a silky red hat to be their secret Santa for December. The idea was to buy a gift for one brother or sister (instead of four), but also to pray for them and find secret ways to serve them. They did great until the secret part. That was just too much for them to handle. One kid kept letting things slip until names were drawn and redrawn and I relinquished the name drawing to one of the older kids. Perhaps one day we will get to the point of loving and serving in secrecy, but today we are still elves in training.
Latvian wool socks from our adoption journey last year
"To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant.
To enact gratitude is generous and noble, but
To live gratitude is to touch Heaven."
- Johannes A. Gaertner
It is hard, when it comes down to it, to realize that the 40 hours of rehearsal time spent carting your child back and forth to play practice resulted in 27 seconds of stage time (Yes, we clocked it.) Three words chanted in a group of five girls. Makes a tired Mom grumble to herself, "Not worth it." Makes the same mom lash out at, not one, but TWO, unthinking brothers who make comments like, "That was a total waste of your time and money!", or kind, considerate words like "you didn't really do anything" to the performing sister. Maddening.
So, I take my frustration and disappointment to Jesus, who cares even about the smallest of things like "my kid didn't get a big part in the children's play". I begin the process of thanking Him, that although she wishes that she could have had a bigger role, she is largely unaffected by disappointment. She notices things like "If the main character comes out last during curtain call, and we come out first, then we must be the least important in the whole play!" She observes, but is no more bitter for it. She comes home each day with new theatrical information such as "the green room is not actually green." She has enjoyed hanging out with friends backstage and making myriads of rainbow loom bracelets. She spouts off everybody else's lines with ease from hearing them so many times, and mimics various accents. She compliments others older than herself who have done well and gets their autographs. She is fine. So, what's wrong with me?
A meekness problem. Knowing how great she is at memorizing lines, and how much she is capable of, and being bummed out that she wasn't able to showcase those gifts. A grown-up sense that everything has to be "worth it" and recognized: the price of tickets, participation fees, gas, and time spent going back and forth. If I step away from my grown-up bottom-line sensibilities, and peer through the looking glass, I can see:
We have made good memories, and shared something together. Her grandmother gave her a copy of Alice in Wonderland. She has been reading it during wait times, and we have been following along with the audio version in the car trips. We had a family movie night enjoying the Johnny Depp version of the Mad Hatter. We have had tea parties and an "unbirthday" party, and would have even tried croquet if my man hadn't purged the set during his last garage cleaning raid. She has been happy, and has learned to play a small role with contentment. Perhaps her mama should learn to do the same.
So many things in life are just little. Little annoyances. Little joys.
Here are a few of the things that have made me crazy over the past week.
Five jars of jelly, seven jars of peanut butter, and four jars of salsa...all opened at the same time. Don't get me started on the empty boxes of waffles in the freezer or cereal in the pantry!
Boys' closets
Is that a pool towel from the summer that I just dislodged from the hanging clothes? Why, yes, it is!
Traffic jams making the seemingly endless treks for "bread and butter" to say her one group line stressful. Wondering if we will make it in time. Wondering if we should just turn around and forget the whole thing, yelling "Off with their heads!"
But, on the other side of the traffic jam, finding this Alice in Wonderland teapot on clearance at Tuesday Morning. My mom used to find a gift for each dance performance that I was in, to celebrate the work done, and to remember the experience by. I was happy to find something I like that fit the theme (and was on sale)!
Finding a few items to put away for the many birthdays and Christmas celebrations around the corner. Smiling as one child keeps hinting for an item that is already purchased and wrapped for her, waiting for just the right time. Being thankful that when I ask God for things (as a good friend noted), He often has good things planned and waiting for me too.
Sometimes, the smallest of things can make me insanely happy.
Buds.
When some flowers hang on much longer than expected, and other clearance finds bring forth new blossoms.
Anticipating good things to come (with very little care given by me).
Tiny Christmas cacti awaiting teachers ($2.50 at Fresh Market). A student gave me one 15 years ago that has somehow managed to live and even thrive all on it's own.
Opening the shutters in the morning to let the light into the house, signifying the start of a new day. It's like that moment in the opening scenes of Downtown Abbey when they open the house for the season (except I am both housemaid and lady of the house)
Feeling cultured and European carrying crusty baguettes under my arm; eating a wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread for lunch and being completely satisfied.
- Thomas Merton