Moment

My sister up and left me.
She went to Asia to teach conversational English for three months.
I told her if she had gone to France or Ireland, I would have figured out a way to visit her.
But I must admit,
the pictures she's been emailing have been beautiful.
Strange, some of them, to Western eyes,
but the tiled roofs, blooming flowers, green swards of park grass,
and sweet faces of her new friends,
are captivating.
It's another world
within our world.

The picture that really stood out was one she snapped inside a store.
It showed a bright yellow knit ensemble,
emblazoned with bold English words:   
Moment
Cherish This
Not Not
Trend
Original
Change
After recovering from our fits of giggles,
my daughter and I resolved to never wear unknown words on our persons.          

For some reason, in my labyrinth of memory,
(maybe it was the word "moment"),
the sequence of words brought a song to mind.
"Day by day, and with each passing moment,
strength I find to meet my trials here.
Trusting in the Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
gives unto each day what He deems best,
lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
mingling toil with peace and rest."

(It's a Swedish hymn by a woman named Lina. What's not to love?) 

Now, of course there are days
when we cherish not not the moment.

Days when the trend is painfully original,
and we balk at change. 

Many years ago, I went on a field trip to Underwater World at the Mall of America.
Our school of four-year-olds and adults was herded into a back room
and taught all kinds of things that the general pubic doesn't get to hear.

We learned about starfish. 
A Spanish scientist, testing the regenerating capacity of the creatures,
took a starfish and blended it in a blender.
(Try not to shudder, they don't have brains. Still, kinda icky).   

He took the 300 tiny pieces of starfish out of the blender,
placed them in separate petri dishes,
and waited.

300 new starfish grew.
Perfect little starfish.

Imagine that.
Wonder at the power of life,
of regeneration,
of the truth that the broken bits inside of us  
(sometimes the tiniest shards) 
can grow into something whole and beautiful.

"Therefore we do not lose heart.
Though outwardly we are wasting away,
yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
For our light and momentary troubles
are achieving for us an eternal glory
that far outweighs them all." 
(II Cor. 4:16,17)      

 

Christmas House 2013

For a week now, Anna Kate and I have been trying to resist decorating for Christmas. We finally caved two days ago, bit by bit, as we started sprinkling the house with the few decorations that we store inside. This year we can't have a big tree. Malachi would pull it right over. We can't even hang the stockings. We tried, and that lasted about five minutes. But the other night I got so excited, thinking about the delight of a little child at Christmas. The line "Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow will find it hard to sleep tonight," filled me with gratitude for our tiny tot. He's busy, messy, and loud, and he still doesn't let me sleep much. But he's the best little guy in the world, and we are so thankful for him. So what if everything beautiful will have to be above shoulder-height this year? Totally worth it.

Here's a short tour of what we've done so far:

Julia will be home this weekend. She will eat these in no time flat. In the mean time, they're gorgeous in vintage silver urns.

I snapped a quick foto of the linen stockings on their antlers.
Moments later, I had to put them away.
Too hazardous with little grabbing hands.

Some of the presents are on top of the cabinet.
We watched a family movie from Christmas 2010, and I was struck by how much I like the way I wrapped presents that year. Simple and cheap, and they match my house. So I dug out those supplies and we're doing the same look again.

Our cabinet. The lower shelf has been re-displayed so as not to appear interesting to a toddler.
This piece is one-of-a-kind, but our piano bars have the same look. And they're both still for sale!
If you forget how nice they are, see them here.

The dining room centerpiece.
I got the rosemary tree at Trader Joe's. It was supposed to be for my son, to help with concentration during his endless studying. But it's so lovely on our table. I think he'll only get a few sprigs. 

I covered up the tiny Christmas balls with acorns.
I prefer the acorns. In fact, the reds and purples of the ornaments aren't my colors,
and if anyone wants them, they're yours.

Here's what I use for wrapping:
Butcher paper from my Gramma
A giant roll of brown kraft paper, about 3 inches wide (from Goodwill, I think)
Brown and silver labels from the dollar section at Target
Home-made tags with burlap string

I like packaging very simple.
I don't go for anything patterned or expensive.
But after wrapping about eight presents, I decided I could branch out a tiny bit.
I scalloped the ends of the kraft paper for the girls' gifts, you can see one on the left.
I started tearing the kraft paper length-wise for some presents.
For the little gift on top, I made a "bow" by curling strips of paper and stapling them together in the middle.

In our living room, I was inspired by the printable we found  here.
Anna Kate and I have been reading Jess and Monica's blog at East Coast Creative,
that's where we found this. As soon as I realized how much printer ink it would take (look at all the background!) I decided to freehand it. It worked out great. It's not as perfect-looking as the printable, and not everybody has a little chalkboard just sitting around, but for me this was fun and easy.

I wonder how long the candy canes will last?

Have a peaceful, simple and joy-filled month, everyone.
And let me know if you have any more ideas for a toddler-friendly Christmas house.

Clean

Yesterday was exhausting. 

I worked all morning to put away two Christmas trees and all their attending ornaments and lights.

I also made two pies and a big dinner for my family,

all while taking care of a hungry baby.

 I had help, and the day was wonderful.

But still, as 2012 drew to a close,

I was tired.

But every year on this first morning,

I turn the little daily verse to January 1st

and my heart lifts with joy.

It's a fresh new year.

Early morning, and sunshine flooded our living room.

I spent the first hour of the day dusting.

What a shocking amount of dust the sun revealed.

I washed the chalkboard clean and pondered what to write on it.

Usually I like words from a song,

but this verse from Ezekiel is the promise I need

for a new year.

Resolutions are fine, and goals are useful.

But what is needed for life

is a brand-new heart.

Look closely.

The dust of 2012 is about to be washed away.

It required strong morning light 

to show me what needed to be cleaned.

Now that the room is empty of Christmas decorations,

this is one of the only colorful things in it.

An amaryllis, nodding warm beside a frozen window.

It will bloom in the first week of 2013.

Happy New Year.

Every year, when I flip the kitchen verse to these lines from Ezekiel, they astound me.

"For I will take you out from among the heathen, and gather you out of all countries, and will bring you into your own land.

Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you.

A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.

And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them,

and ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers; and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God."

(Ezekiel 36: 24-28)