new-fallen snow

Tomorrow is our last day in Wisconsin and we are expecting another accumulation tonight. Due to the strangely warm temperatures, our snow has melted at home, so we are grateful for these breathtaking glimpses of white. It's a Frost poem come to life.

other people's presents

I have a sneaking suspicion that someday Liam will not be so pleased that I posted these photos on my blog, but I just couldn't resist. Cousin Samantha's chest of princess dress-up clothes was the big hit under the tree this Christmas. However, now that Sammy and her dresses have departed, Liam has found equal pleasure in Star Wars LEGO battles. Phew.

do not be afraid

This has been a very different Advent. In addition to spending a week of it in 80 degree weather when it hovers near 0 degrees almost daily and rarely ceases to snow here at home, December has been consumed with heartache over Ray, my dear cousin's very, very sick husband. Instead of cramming in all of our favorite traditions the last four days - cutting down a tree and trimming it, paying a visit to Santa, shopping for more than 30 minutes, baking cookies, making ornaments, sending Christmas cards, and happily blogging about it all - I sat in hospital rooms and cared for three sweet little girls in their home while Andrew held down the fort here.

This morning was a mad, mad dash to pull Christmas together. I have been trying to breathe deep, to let go of what I wished we'd done, what we missed, what my kids won't even remember. I have been trying not to worry about other people's expectations over gifts and preparations. Mostly I have been trying to remain focused on what and why we celebrate this season anyway.

It is so easy to pay lip service to Jesus' birth. This year I have really struggled to get my heart around the sentimentality of it all. And, quite honestly, the hard facts often leave me cold. But something happened in church tonight. I heard a different story. A perspective I have rarely considered. Words that reached into the ache, the worry, the fear, the ambivalence, the disappointment and brought me back.

"Do not be afraid."

It is an angel's standard greeting. I knew that, of course. I've heard the story hundreds of times. But this time I had the privilege of being a reader in the service and something about reading aloud, paying attention and longing to hear, I noticed that these words are absolutely essential to the Christmas story.

There is so much pain in the world. For the last four days I have been swimming in it. But the great comforter is telling us, Do not be afraid.

There is so much to worry about every day. From battles with cancer to whether a check will come on time. But the Hope of the world is telling us, Do not be afraid.

There are so many reasons to doubt or flee or choose oblivion. But a personal, loving God is telling us, Do not be afraid.

We have to face the darkness in order to see the Light of the World. But we do not have to be afraid. That, I guess, is heavenly peace.

May your travels through the darkness lead you to the manger, so you can return like the terrified, trembling shepherds, glorifying and praising God for all you have heard and seen. That's where I'm heading.

Merry Christmas.

interlude

It isn't very Christmasy here on the Gulf. But for a week, we will suffer through. For a first-time visit to a Florida beach, I give this little paradise five stars. Listening, watching, reading, knitting, playing, sitting still, breathing. I forget how good it is to BE. Enjoy your every moment, wherever you are today.

gettin' outta dodge

This is a good picture of us. It's cold and snowy and we're all so tired we're always staring off into space, eyes glazed over. Although this little one is definitely the cutest tuckered-out one of the bunch - mom just looks old (which is why she is not pictured). In fact, I shouldn't even be writing this. I still have work to do, it's nearly midnight and it'll be the fourth night in a row that I hit the sack in the morning. But, halleluia, we're blowing this popsicle stand in just over 24 hours - for blue skies, sandy beaches and rest, glorious rest. I can hardly contain myself.

Liam, interestingly, is perhaps the most excited of all and he has no idea what's in store. "When are we going to Florida, mom? When are we going to Florida?" Not soon enough.


Liam's getting old enough that he really wants to pack himself. But left to his own devices, we'd be transporting five plastic dinosaurs, a couple sleigh bells, a cap from the milk jug, toilet paper rolls and a pair of mismatched socks. I'm sure we could construct an outfit out of all that in Florida. But, um, I'd rather not have to think that hard. So, I decided to try making a visual list like the one I saw recently on one of my favorite blogs. It was incredibly fast and easy to draw up, and it was therapeutic to do something that was not work. I have missed being creative this week. I can't wait to see what Liam pulls together with this little packing list tomorrow. Should be interesting!


Before I go back to work... here's the other creative memory of the week. My friend Ann sent me this fun idea she saw on the CraftSanity website. Basically, you collect all your broken crayons (we found a lot!), take off the paper, arrange them in paper muffin liners in muffin tins and heat in the oven. (Much clearer directions can be found here.) Liam was very enthusiastic about unwrapping the finished crayons from the liners and remarking on the beauty of each. We had planned to group 3 or 4 and wrap and give to his friends for Christmas, with a little homemade paper booklet. But, per Liam, they are all too pretty to give away. I figured I'd give it a week and he'll forget he even liked them. Plus, disk-shaped crayons with ruffled edges? Not the best writing implement. Cute, colorful and creative. But, not so practical.

That's okay. I'm quite sure we'll be dreaming up plenty to do with shells very, very soon...

unsung heroes

I recently read about a "woman of the year"-type contest in a mothering magazine and started thinking about who I would nominate. Truth is, it's tough because I know so many incredible women. But I've decided that I could boil it down to two. Neither of these women would want the spotlight. Although I'm sure both of them would love to be able to hand over the winnings - $35k to the charity of their choice. I would nominate them both.

1 :: Chicago blogger and mom Alysa who I have met twice (as I occasionally work on projects with her husband). The only time I have ever cried reading a webpage - tears literally streaming down my face - is when reading Alysa's blog. And in the past few weeks it has happened almost every time. See, Alysa and her family sponsored a refugee family through World Relief and it has been the most tremendous, heart-rending, real-life story I have followed in a long time, maybe ever. (Read this older post and this recent post and see what I mean!) I love this family! Both Alysa's and her Iraqi refugee family. Nothing portrays a clearer picture of God's love in action. Nothing. I also appreciate that Alysa is totally transparent about the fact that she is not a perfect mom. Woman of the year should definitely not be a perfect mom, because we all know that woman would be lying.

2 :: My precious cousin Kristin. I hardly even know where to begin with this woman. Ubermom of three young girls, incredibly capable, influential political maven, brilliant multitasker, respected and regularly called-upon older sister, who was handed the cup of advocate, caretaker, nurse and prayer warrior for husband with serious, life-threatening cancer. This woman (although I'm quite certain she would argue me) is grace personified. All morning I sat with her in the ICU at Ray's bedside while she confidently and ably questioned, discussed, bartered and advocated with doctors and nurses as brilliantly as any ER resident, and then tenderly rubbed Ray's feet, flipped through her Blackberry to check emails and filled me in on the details of the past week, all after sleeping the night on two hard plastic chairs pushed together. And she still had her girls' day at home scheduled down to the gift wrapped and ready and transportation secured for the birthday party her 6-year-old was attending this afternoon. No one juggles balls while wading through grief and uncertainty - and still finds a way to laugh at mishaps and forgive herself for failings - like Kristin. And on top of it all, she is encouraging us with her daily emails (which can all be read on their family blog) - a phenomenal testimony of her and Ray's incredible faith. And, she's no picture perfect mom either. But she is undeniably real.

I know there are many, many more women-of-the-year in our midst. These are just two of the ones I've become closest to virtually and personally. Get to know an awesome woman in your world. Her blessing is bound to rub off.

say what?

This has been the week of hilarious conversations and stunning one-liners. Here are a few of the gems.

LIAM: "Tracy (friend Ian's mom who was the reader parent at pre-school today) read us a Bible story about animals today."
MOM: "Was it Noah's ark?"
LIAM: "No. There were no people in it, not even Noah."
MOM: "So, how do you know it was a Bible story?"
LIAM: "Because it was a BIG book."

::

Elliott was standing up next to me and putting his head in my lap (trying to bite me, as usual) when I was sitting on the couch this afternoon.

Liam glanced over from across the room and shook his head, "Elliott's really into you."

::

Last night Liam had a sleepover party at grandma's while I hosted my book club. When we reunited he told me all about the huge dinner he ate, including (apparently) a plateful of peas (which I don't think I have ever served him).

"Peas are tricky to eat," I said. "Did you use a fork?"

"No," said Liam.

"A spoon?"

"No," he said again, and then added oh-so-matter-of-factly, "Hands."

::

(During a snack after school.)

LIAM (very nonchalantly, as a teenage boy might): So...I talked to Paige today during gym time. (Paige being Liam's self-proclaimed "girlfriend.")
MOM (as cooly as possible): Really? What did you talk about?
LIAM (shrugging his shoulders): Brothers.

::

While riding home from Wisconsin on Monday, Liam was in the back seat singing to himself. The song took some odd and questionable turns, as a boy's song might.

When he finished I said, "That was a creative song, honey."

"Yeah," he said as he looked reflectively out the car window. "Except for the butt part. That was kind of awkward."

an easy, recycled handmade gift

This weekend in Wisconsin I noticed that my sister had brought along a pair of mittens I made her at least eight years ago. I was surprised that she not only hadn't lost them (sorry this small lack of faith, Liz) and still liked them, but that in all these years, the mittens hadn't fallen apart.

The design was a brainstorm I had one afternoon when purging my closet. Three of the sweaters I was donating were lying by each other and I liked the juxtaposition of the patterns and colors. Once I had the idea to turn a sweater cuff into a mitten cuff, the rest of the pattern just kind of flowed from that. I did all of the stitching with yarn and finished them with unmatched buttons on the cuffs (my favorite part). I just loved these mittens when I made them and I still think they are so cute. And since I still have the rest of these three sweaters in my stash, I think I'll be making another pair for me!