Instructions for Christmas

Decorating for Christmas is always one of my favorite things. And this year feels much the same, except I keep coming across notes tucked into my holiday storage boxes.

Last year, after Christmas, as I spent extra time taking things down and putting them away I was facing another round of scans in early January. Scans do something unkind to a stage 4 cancer patient’s mind. Scans mess with us. I’ve always been a person wired to hope for, and even, expect the best, but these past couple of years have introduced me to a new, more skeptical side of myself. Unfortunately, at times, a more anxious side. I still hope for and pray for and ask for the best, but I have this self-protective thing in me which, I notice, on occasion, attempts to manage my expectations and keep in check my slightly Pollyanna-ish personality. 

So those scans had me on edge last January. And as I put away my Christmas decor after the holidays I started writing out detailed directions on how to install the garlands on the railings and the candles in the windows. I left written and typed out sheets of paper in the boxes before I stored them in our basement. I left diagrams just under the lids. I told myself it was to make it easier on myself next year, but if I had been completely honest, I would have admitted it was also for a "just in case" kind of scenario. Just in case 2023 happened to go awry. Just in case I wasn’t able to be the person to hang that confusing garland on the front porch or place those electric candles in the right windows. Just in case. We will leave it at that. 

Super dramatic, right? I agree. And I really try to stay away from that kind of thinking, except I have a terminal cancer diagnosis and so sometimes that luxury affords me not.

Trust me, my attitude is very positive for a girl wearing these kind of statistical shoes and fighting this kind of undignified diagnosis. Most of the time I have ridiculously high hopes and every reason to believe I am going to keep fighting this disease for many, many years. But, as I mentioned above, there’s this new, slightly more skeptical, side with which I’m constantly confronted. I have statistics. I have too many stories of stage 4 patients. I know things. I see things. I fear things.

This is what living with stage four cancer sometimes looks like. The part you might not notice. So I'm telling you. 

And the mother and wife and woman in me wants to be ready. She doesn’t want her family to throw down that garland in frustration because, “only mom knows how to really make it fit the space.” She doesn’t want the dining room tree ornaments to end up on the family room tree or the stockings to be hung in the wrong order or the wreaths to be on the wrong doors. (gasp!) She doesn’t want a holiday season to come and not be well celebrated because, “only mom knows how to…”  I fully realize that all sounds pretty silly in the face of  cancer... or really anything. I know none of that stuff is a truly big deal, but in some weird way, for me, it was. Is.  

And I know when the day comes where I may be sick or weak or weary or (hopefully) old, I will want my family to carry on with all the courage and creativity that I’ve spent decades trying to pour into them—cancer or no cancer. 

Because life is brief. There are no guarantees. And as mothers we never know what lessons have really been learned. What traditions will be carried on. What memories made. What things remembered. We can’t imagine not being the one to wrap the presents or choose the yearly ornaments or plan the menu. We can’t fathom a day where we won’t be in the kitchen baking cookies and barking orders and checking on the turkey.

But for all of us, sooner or later, that day will, indeed, come.

Last year as I removed the ornaments and folded the stockings and wound up the garland and lights, I allowed the King of Lies to take hold of my very human, very fragile, heart. I allowed The Liar to whisper what ifs into my uneasy ears. He scared me. Of course he did. He is really good at his job. 

And, somehow, I thought if I wrote out directions and detailed a lot of drawings, I would be able to silence his insidious plans to sabotage my peace.

But he is a liar. And those were lies. And satan isn’t in charge anyway. Not one bit. He wants to keep me unsteady and unable. He wants desperately to make me incapable and ineffectual. He’d like nothing more to shut this girl down well before cancer does.

It’s a truly weird balance as we consider the brevity of our days—each one of us—and yet, place our full confidence in the perfect timing of Jesus. I know. I don't get all of it either. But it bears considering.

And that’s why I so desperately need the Truth of Jesus. Every day. Every hour. I think of the hymn I heard my grandparents sing so often growing up. They sang it a lot. I think because as older, wiser people, they knew. They got it.  Like I know now. Like I (mostly) get it:

“I need Thee every hour

Most gracious Lord

No tender voice like Thine

Can peace afford

I need Thee, O I need Thee

Every hour I need Thee

O bless me now, my Savior

I come to Thee.”

Annie S. Hawks, 1872

I don’t really fault that Jody from early last January. She likes her ducks in a row. She always has. Rick and I laughed a little as we pulled out those storage boxes this year. He was actually pretty impressed with my uber organization. The man loves a good diagram and chart. Trust me, it’s not easy to impress a #1 on the enneagram when it comes to organization. But impressed, he was.

Speaking of Rick, he’s been amazing this year in helping me get the house ready. Though he does a ton around our house daily, the holiday decorating was always my thing and he mostly just cheered me on and enjoyed the end result. But this year, he didn’t hesitate to jump in. He has been like my own personal 6 foot 3 1/2 inch elf. It’s been fun and he’s been a fantastic help. But, please, for his sake, no Buddy the Elf jokes! =)

But this morning as I sit here in this first week of advent and think about my many feeble attempts to be Christmas ready and prepared, I have to kind of laugh at myself. A decorated and ready house is so incredibly insignificant in life. But a dedicated and ready heart is what this season is truly about. It’s eternal life.

It’s not about preparing my rooms, but preparing room for my Savior and the celebration of His birth. 

In the words of Isaac Watts’ famous 1719 Christmas carol, 

Joy to the world, the Lord is come

Let Earth receive her King

Let every heart prepare Him room

And Heaven and nature sing.

You probably know that carol well, but did you know Watts wrote this hymn based on Psalm 98? 

Sing to the Lord a new song,
for he has done marvelous things;


his right hand and his holy arm
have worked salvation for him.

The Lord has made his salvation known
and revealed his righteousness to the nations. 

He has remembered his love
and his faithfulness to Israel;


all the ends of the earth have seen
the salvation of our God. 

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth,
burst into jubilant song with music; 

make music to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, 

with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn—
shout for joy before the Lord, the King. 

Let the sea resound, and everything in it,
the world, and all who live in it. 

Let the rivers clap their hands,
let the mountains sing together for joy; 

let them sing before the Lord,
for he comes to judge the earth.


He will judge the world in righteousness
and the peoples with equity.

What a beautiful psalm full of resounding seas and clapping rivers and singing mountains. As a lover of nature, this resonates with me deeply. I get it. But, dear ones, we cannot ignore that final verse. “For He comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity.”  He surely will. As much as I'd prefer to focus on the pretty and bright things of Christmas, that day of reckoning is very much a reality. 

As much as we want to prepare our hearts for the sweet Baby Jesus who found no room in the inn, we must also consider what we are doing to prepare our hearts for the Righteous One who will return and who promises to judge. 

We must. 

Even at Christmas. 

Especially at Christmas.

Even when the images are pastoral and idyllic and so lovely, we must remember being ready has to do with so much more than our holiday preparations. Let all these wonderful details point us to the most important details of all -- our heart preparation. 

Joy to the World, the Lord is come.

Joy to the World, the Lord will come again. 

And the good news is we don’t need to do anything. Unlike with Santa, we don't have to be good enough for Jesus. That's why He came. For us. Out of love. For us. We don't need typed out instructions or detailed drawings, we need only bow before The One who truly does make heaven and nature sing and worship Him.

the day after christmas

no one talks much about the day after christmas. there are no advertisements or heartwarming stories or special broadcasts about this day.

december 26th.

as a kid, i can remember feeling a little let down. a tiny bit blue. christmas was over and we’d have to wait an entire year to have christmas come again.

as a mom, though, i kinda like this day. i’m not saying it’s better than christmas, nothing can take the place of christmas, but it has it’s own kind of goodness.

i came down the stairs early this morning, stepping over small bits and pieces of our holiday. a doll shoe here, a remote control car there. some playing cards strewn across the family room floor. a plate shoved to the side of the couch with a piece of half eaten cake. you know, the typical aftermath of
christmas mess. there are pine needles and shreds of wrapping paper tucked into most corners of our family room ... i'm sure i'll still be finding pine needles come next july.

decorating gingerbread houses
on christmas eve is one of our traditions .
kids get better and better every year! 

i woke this morning to a kitchen island dusted with snow -- one of the kids must have blown on the powdered sugar gingerbread houses late last night. there’s a stack of gift boxes, empty and waiting for a motivated someone to move them to the basement storage room. of course there’s a return pile: things which weren’t just right or didn’t quite fit. and opening the fridge for my creamer, i was sort of shocked at the collection of containers and oddly wrapped packages jammed on the shelves. leftovers. a slice of this, a scoop of that. the chocolate cake with the beautiful iced poinsettia looking a bit decimated this morning after on its glass pedestal plate. clearly the attack of a family of seven.

bits and pieces of christmas spilling over into this nothing special day. this day after. this december 26th.

as a mom, i’m seeing a lot of stuff in need of my attention, sure. but i’m also seeing this morning, how this aftermath of christmas kind of makes it continue.

all this stuff ... is with us now. some of it was wrapped up and hidden away until yesterday, but now we’re living with it. (and stepping over it). now it’s among us. it’s part of us. it’s right here in the middle of us. sure, some of it’s kind of messy and mixed up. some of it needs to be figured out  -- where do we keep this new toy or store that new thing. that’s all a part of it too, right?

and, except for the return pile, it's all here to stay.

when we had finished unwrapping yesterday some of the kids were quick to pick up their new loot and cart it off to their rooms. but my husband’s little pile stayed right there by the tree. years ago, when we were first married, he told me he just likes to look at it there for a while. he likes it all to linger. he doesn't want to hurry his christmas.

and linger christmas can.

and linger christmas should.

our home and our hearts should look a little bit different the day after christmas.

Jesus came as Emmanuel: God with us. just like those bits and pieces of our celebration stuck everywhere, we should be seeing remnants of the gift of God’s son. the day after christmas isn’t a blue day, it’s a bright day. a day when we realize we live a little bit different now. the day after Jesus’ birth changed everything. hope was born when love came down. and when love came down it dwelt among us.

we don't live in expectation of the birth of the Messiah anymore, we live in exultation because of the birth of the Messiah.

Emmanuel doesn’t mean God visited. it doesn't mean God dropped by. Emmanuel means God came to be with us. to stay with us. to live in us. to change us. God came to die for us so that we can live with Him forever.

"therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: 

behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, 

and she will call His name Emmanuel." ~ isaiah 7:14

i know most of us will spend the next few days picking up and putting away some of our holiday hoopla. but, as we restore order, let's remember that even in this ordinary, nothing special, day after Christmas God is with us. God came yesterday to be with us today ... and forever.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a few pics from christmas eve and christmas morning ...

em painted this for her sister

a big smile over a "hoped for" gift!

potential college colors?

on this day after christmas bella's sweet friend, emme, stopped over
with this adorable gift -- a monogramed sweatshirt and matching headband!

what is knitting your family together this christmas?

i was fumbling with the coffee maker when i noticed it sitting there on the counter: two needles plunged securely into a round ball of gray yarn. things sometimes aren't what they seem in the murky hour of 6am. and my son's knitting might have been one of those things.

attached to the needles and ball was about 18 inches of knitting. 18 inches of neatly ordered rows. the work of my boy's hands.

you heard me right, my 16 year old son is knitting -- a scarf, to be exact.

early morning or not, coffee coursing through my body or not -- it's true.

this boy who can throw it down on the soccer field or kick it up on a dirt bike; this boy who can gut a fish or track a deer or handle a jump on his snowboard; this boy, this same boy, my boy, is knitting.

your eyebrows raise a bit. i know ... mine, too.

while waiting for the keuring to spew out my first morning cup, i picked up his project, studying his handiwork. "not bad for a first time knitter," i thought to myself.

who am i kidding? not.bad.for.a.16.year.old.boy.period!

grabbing that warm mug, now ready, i smiled. how did this happen?

i'm not exactly sure, but it was a thursday night last week. a school night and both boys -- connor (10) and tyler (16) wandered into the office where i was up to my eyeballs in christmas cards. they came in to chat, but after staring at my basket of yarn for a minute, they announced they'd like to learn how to knit. "mom, will you show us?" just like that. it was late and i was skeptical. surely they weren't serious. but, rick was traveling and i was tired of sticking address labels on envelopes ... and so, i said, "sure, we can knit."

--- after all, it's not every thursday night when a woman's two sons approach her with a request to knit.

and as a mother, i know, when your boys want to knit. you knit. it really is that simple

i mean i was pretty sure they were just trying to stall and push back on bedtime. obviously that thought crossed my mind. except they were extremely focused on what i was teaching them. they were serious. intent. even kind of boyishly-determined. they really did seem to want to learn.

hmm ... i thought. strange.

i posted this unlikely event on facebook and got a lot of "likes" and some funny comments. i was sure it was no more than an evening distraction ... a phase ... a passing fancy ... an odd alignment of the handiwork stars. except they are still both knitting. and, except that a few nights later, the girls and a couple of friends joined them, too! one night last week i had 6 kids knitting in my family room by the fire. no television. no netflix. no phones. no you tube or snap chat or instagram or twitter. only the clicking of bamboo needles and some fun conversation. let's just go ahead now and file this into that you-can't-make-this-stuff-up AND i-can't-believe-my-eyes folder!

and what's more, tonight, and i kid you not, tyler went to the gym to work out and on his way home he STOPPED AT THE KNITTING STORE. he not only stopped at the knitting store, but HE BROUGHT ALONG THE BUDDY WHO WAS WORKING OUT WITH HIM.

again, all together now: YOU-CAN'T-MAKE-THIS-STUFF-UP!

the truth is though, you know i love it. i love the unexpected twist. i love the unsuspecting turn. and i really love that for several nights now, the kids and i have been sitting around knitting our scarves in this month of december. i love that in these new and strange stitches our family is being kind of knit together in a new way.

it's the things we can't plan, isn't it? it's those things which often work to make connections with our kids in our homes. i could have spent a month talking up the great knitting project of christmas 2013 and i'm telling you, it would never have left the starting block. but my boys wander into my office on a thursday night and ask me to teach them to knit and voila! we have knitters.

we even had talk with some good family friends about a "knitting tournament!" best knitting project by the end of christmas wins ... or something like that. (between you and me, our family will turn anything -- even knitting -- into a competition).

i love how unpredictable life can be. especially with kids. especially with teens. you just never know what's coming down the pike ... and, though that can be scary, it can also be delightful. and this knitting thing, well, that's on the side of delightful. delightful because we're all together. we're doing something. we're connecting. we're knitting ourselves as a family when we sit fireside for a few minutes.

people have remarked before, "you're such a close knit family." and we are. but i have to wonder what will keep us that way? as the kids begin journeying off in different directions -- emily will begin college in just a matter of months (gasp)! -- what will keep our crazy family of seven knit tightly together?

what is knitting your family together this christmas?
maybe the better question is, WHO is knitting your family together this christmas?

i had lunch with a couple of girlfriends on monday and we were talking about this very thing. we were talking about how easy (and even common) it is for families to become fragmented and fall apart as kids grow up and leave home. all three of us have witnessed that: brothers and sisters no longer speaking to one another. grandparents who don't know their grandchildren. sons estranged from fathers. daughters from mothers. how does this happen? why does this happen?

how do these children who ran through sprinklers together and chased down the ice cream truck on summer evenings, stop talking in their adult lives?

how do brothers who shared dreams while shooting basketballs and sisters who put on plays for their parents grow to be men and women who don't know much about each other's lives any longer.

i'll be honest, as a mama of five, this worries me.

as my girlfriends and i pounded out these questions over our lunch, we all landed on the same thought: it has to be Jesus who keeps us together. only Jesus can truly and securely knit together families. because when beliefs change and ideas change and people change it feels like family can easily unravel. and without Jesus, the simple truth is, it can, and often, it will. all of those years raised in a home can simply unwind with a few rough conversations or some unpleasant words. sometimes it happens abruptly, sometimes it happens slowly. but without the strong thread of Jesus knitting us together, it happens.

and, if you've experienced this, you know, it's heartbreaking.

psalm 139:13-14 says, "for you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. i praise you, for i am fearfully and wonderfully made. wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well." 

did you read that? God knitted me together! funny to think that God is also a knitter. (i'll have to remember to tell my son that). God's design was to knit us together in the wombs of our mothers and to knit us together in the fabric of a family. it's His design. it's His perfect design. we're the ones who mess it up ... tangle the threads ... cut the yarn. we're the one's who go off course, add extra rows, drop a stitch or forget about the project altogether, abandoning it to a basket somewhere out of sight.

i suppose that's why, especially, at this time of year, we mothers work extra hard to create memories, stir up magic and continue traditions. we want our kids to have something they are woven into when the time comes for them to leave.

we want our family stitches to be as secure as possible.

it's almost a desperate kind of feeling sometimes, isn't it?

but it occurred to me today, that just like my son's knitting, it isn't really about me coming up with the great project or the next memorable thing. it's not really even about me stitching my kids securely together. yes, we should work hard to create "home" for our families, but we also have to remember the only real thing which holds is the thread of Jesus woven through the hallways and hearts of this house. we can add all the trappings and trimmings and tremendously awesome stuff, but only the thread of Jesus truly holds tight.

there aren't any guarantees. i know that. i have five children, and not for one minute do i feel assured that all five will stay knitted together. that is my desire. that is my hope. that is my prayer. but it is not my absolute confidence, because i know the world we live in and i know the sinful people we are and i know the things which snag and snare and even sever family threads.

i'll keep coming up with crazy christmas ideas and family fun projects, but let me not forget that what i really need to be worried about weaving into my family is Jesus. only when we include Him in the knitting process do we have something in our hands to hold onto.

a few days ago a friend sent me this link to storyteller, stuart mclean. she thought, with all the knitting going on over here, i might enjoy it. so, in my crazy-chrsitmas-mother-fashion, i made everyone stay home one night this week and gather in the family room for 20 minutes (harder than you think). we turned on the fireplace and turned off the television. we played it over the computer and we listened. yes, just listened. there was nothing to watch, no video, no screen, no 1000 inch high definition anything. we just sat and listened (and knit). it's a sweet story and it was a sweet time for my family.

i looked at us all sitting around with smiles on our faces, laughing, enjoying mclean's story, and i, as usual, wanted to push the pause button.

Lord, let us stay in this place for a little bit longer: children sprawled across the floor, the dog's head on my lap, christmas lights flickering, sock feet touching and needles clicking. Lord, there aren't any guarantees, but this, right now, this is a gift. let us see the good that what we have and hold it as grace. remind me, the mother, that i cannot plan out the neat rows of our life, but i can surrender the project to you ... God, you are the one who knit these children inside me, would you continue to knit us together in this world of unfinished and unfulfilled days. knit us to you ... knit us in the knowledge of you, Lord Jesus.

so:  if you can find a few minutes, whether you knit or not, i'd recommend you listen to this 20 minute audio. it's a great little christmas piece ... really funny, sweet, and easy to follow. even my family agrees! 
for the link click on stuart mclean's  CHRISTMAS PRESENT

the shepherds

"and there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night."  ~ luke 2:8

me? well, i'm sort of partial to the shepherds. i don't ever like to play favorites, but when it comes to the christmas story, there's something about the shepherds that really gets me.

maybe it's that they seem pretty simple. they were doing their thing: keeping watch over their flocks at night; camped out in a field; minding their own business; literally -- they were counting sheep.

i can hear the low hum of their conversation hillside. i can see them warming chilled hands by a fire. (clearly the setting isn't minnesota). i can imagine their sleepy attempts to stay awake.

their joking. their story-telling. their dream-sharing.

whispers in the dark muttered amongst plain, hard working, sheep-handling men.


the rustle of the animals.
the stillness of the night.
the calm of these caretakers.

and then BAM! 
out of the clear black sky, an angel of the Lord appears. and if that isn't enough, number one angel is joined quickly by a great company of the heavenly host -- a multitude.

now, i'm not exactly sure how many angels that might include, but something about a "great company" or "multitude" makes me think more showed up than a mere three or four. maybe three or four thousand? maybe? perhaps? i don't truly know ... but stop for a minute and just imagine the scene.

can you picture it? can't you just see those sleepy shepherds scrambling up off their hill? clinging to their staffs. pulling back their shepherd headdresses. eyes opening wide in wonder. hearts beating hard in surprise. faces startled into expressions of fear. this heavenly host blinding their sleepy, sheep-counting-eyes.

"do not be afraid. i bring you good news 
which will cause great joy for all the people. 
today in the town of david a Savior has been born to you."

 "... and the glory of the Lord shone all around them." ~ luke 2:11 & 14

these ordinary, simple, everyday, nothing-special shepherds on a hillside come face to face with the good news and with God's glory.

average guys meet glorious angels.

i think that's the part which really gets me when i read this passage.

it's at this moment with shepherds -- keeping watch in their fields ---where the mundane meets the majestic. where the monotony of sheep-watching mixes with something miraculous.

these shepherds in their rough woolen cloth, holding hand-carved staffs, sleepy and just trying to do their job, find themselves smack dab in the middle of God's glory.

it sounds a little like a close encounter with the third kind, doesn't it?

i'm sure they were shaking in their sandals.

i'm sure they were shaking heads in disbelief.

i'm sure the sheep were, suddenly, unimportant.

we know they dropped everything -- even the sheep.

the scripture is clear: "they hurried off..."

were they negligent shepherds? were they looking for a way out of their work? i don't think so. i think they had truly come into contact with the glory of the Lord and, here's the deal:  when you come into contact with God's glory, it quickly puts other things in perspective. you realize the menial tasks of life can be tabled for a time.

these simple shepherds were standing in angelic brilliance and they immediately knew this was big stuff. this was special. this was not your average, every day, shepherd boy's story.

"they hurried off..." excited. confused. bewildered. intrigued. purposeful.

they might have been a bit dazed by the heavenly display, but their is no record of them stopping to discuss the next steps. the only reaction recorded is,"let us now go and see ... and they hurried off." they got a glimpse of God's glory and they hurried off in search of Jesus. they wanted more. they couldn't wait. Jesus became urgent.

personally, i've never come across a great company of angels, but i know with certainty i've seen God's glory. i see it everyday in the little things He brings my way. everyday, i get some kind of glimpse. it's rarely a big dazzling kind of demonstration though. in fact, more often, it's the simple, quiet, unassuming gifts which announce His presence. sometimes, in order for me to take notice, the gifts require me to be more vigilant than a half-asleep shepherd. i have to "keep watch" for them.

but continuously, in little ways, He mixes the miraculous into my messy life making me want to react like those shepherds, who hurried off. i don't want to spend my time deciding or debating or discussing whether or not i should go find Jesus and tell others ... i just want to hurry off and do it without delay.

i want Jesus to be urgent in my life.

i want that kind of wild wonder.

i want to react to His glory -- whether it be startling and brilliant or simple and basic.

i want to be a shepherd-woman who reacts with haste. especially in december; to be woken up out of my sheep-counting, day-counting, present-buying, gift-preparing, party-planning, tree-trimming life ... and i want to hurry off to find Jesus.

how about you? do you want to be more like one of those shepherds on the hillside?

check out the lamb on the right -- missing an ear. bella likes to play
with our nativity set. clearly, i wasn't keeping watch.

you know, we can ask God to show us His glory -- we really can.

let december be a reminder that God appears to the simple, in the simple, and with the simple. His glory probably won't show up like a heavenly host of singing angels {but oh my goodness, how cool would THAT be!}, but it's there for our sheep-counting eyes to see. if we're a little bit sleepy on our hillside of life with heads nodding off and voices  whispering low, maybe, it's time we pull back our shepherd hats and keep watch for what He has for us.

He brought the glorious angels to the simple shepherds
He  brought the Savior of the world to the simple stable.
what gift, today, does He want to bring to simple us?

let's keep watch ... hurry off ... and go find Jesus.

"So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.  ...  

 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told." ~ luke 2:15-20

oh...and please leave me a comment! i think i FINALLY fixed my problem with the comments! if it  still doesn't work --- join me on my facebook page (link is in upper right corner) and tell me it isn't working. i'll be changing from blogger to wordpress somewhere in the new year.  but can't tackle that task at the moment. 

like mary {grace words wednesday}

that's me in the blue! clearly, i'm  pondering (something).

i was mary once. really, i was.

and i assure you, i knew i was an imposter back then at age 11, just as i know it today at 45.

i'm not a mary and it has nothing to do with her virgin birth or no room in the inn, but everything to do with luke chapter 2. verse 19:

 "but mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." 

she treasured and she pondered.

and for that, mary must have stood still long enough to do both.

i, on the other hand, am not doing a whole lot of standing still these days. not in this season ...

and yet ... i want to be. i long to be.

only yesterday morning, i was in bible study and our speaker talked about doing christmas differently this year. she said,

"this year, all i want for christmas is Jesus. Jesus. just to know Him better, to see Him more clearly, to worship Him more wonderfully."

she went on to explain how when she went shopping for the perfect gifts for her children, she wanted to remember it is Jesus who is the perfect gift. when she hung christmas lights on her tree she wanted to think about Jesus, the Light of the World. and when she baked cookies she wanted to keep in mind Who it is that truly satisfies.

i listened to her words and loved everything she was saying. shaking my head in agreement, i thought to myself, "yes, sister, yes!"

but, if i'm honest, i also sat cringing a bit in my secret knowledge of who i really am and how i really operate. especially in busy seasons like these.

i'm not mary. and often, i forget about Jesus.

i, too, want to string lights and remember the Light of the World. but it was just last week that i was wrestling (yes, wrestling) with that stupid, stubborn strand of lights on our tree that went out AGAIN.

i want to remember when i pop a cookie or two (or ten) into my mouth that only Jesus really satisfies  -- but, oh man, how i do love those christmas cookies! i am pretty sure when i was eating one cookie after another at our holiday gathering on sunday i didn't once think about Jesus!

and then, just yesterday morning, at the beginning of her talk, i was half listening while making a list on my iphone of things i had yet to do in my day.

anyone slightly appalled (yet) at the irony or sheer ridiculousness of this situation?

anyone else struggling in this same way?

there i was listening to a lovely lady talk about keeping christ the focus of christmas and i was focusing on my errand list. i was plotting how just after bible study i would quick dash over to the craft store in the next town and purchase my large paper mache letters which i would quick dash home and paint and then arrange on my mantle to spell out "NOEL." (one of those strange decorating "visions" i am prone to).

there i was hearing about the first noel, the birthday of Jesus, and my need to focus on Him, and there i was a woman with no focus.

i wasn't treasuring.

i wasn't pondering.

i wasn't listening.

no, instead i was on my iphone typing. plotting. listing.

because i'm jody and i'm nothing like mary.

mary who the bible tells us was just a young girl. simple. scared. overwhelmed. on her own.

mary who had no experience in birth.
mary who had no midwife or doctor.
mary who had no room in the inn.
mary who had no clue what would be required.

mary who was wrapping in swaddling clothes the very Son of God. the King of Kings.  the Redeemer of Nations. the Prince of Peace.

and i think i'm overwhelmed with what i have to do?

give me a break!

young mary, overwhelmed and under-experienced, was holding Jesus. Jesus!

and yet the scripture, in no way, suggests that she was fretting or pacing or panicking. the only thing it reveals about this young mother after giving birth to the Christ child is her treasuring and pondering.

oh Lord, make me a little bit more like mary.

i don't have to dress up in a blue sheet and hold a baby doll in front of a church service, but Jesus, make me still enough in this christmas season to treasure you. make me quiet enough to ponder the Prince of Peace. make me take notice of the First Noel.

all week in minnesota we've dipped below zero degrees. tonight we are expecting a low of minus 10. it's cold. frozen. frigid. there's a lot of snow. and with this snow comes a hush. a quiet. it's the kind of weather which just makes a person want to stay put. to sit in front of the fire with a cup of coffee. to stare out the window and watch the flakes fall. to be still.

“be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,  

  I will be exalted in the earth!” ~ psalm 46:10

like mary: still. treasuring. pondering the Son of God. the exalted among all nations.

sure, everyone's got a lot to do in december and this kind of weather is more like january -- even in minnesota. but the deep cold has come early this year and the stillness and hush have set in.

and today, i realized, i'm kind of glad.

if i can't make myself be still and quiet and calm in this season, than i'm thankful the weather is keeping me in a bit. {okay, so i did rush over to the craft store after bible study yesterday --- i cannot lie} --- but on the way home, i thought more about the message of the morning, and i realized the frozen, bare landscape outside my window is just another reminder to seek Jesus, just as He arrived to mary in that stable --- beautiful. simple. quiet. Jesus.

oh friends, i don't know what it might take for you. but i'm praying this morning that, like mary, you might trade in your december trips and panic for God's treasure and pondering.

whether your hands are nestled in warm mittens or not, let them open to hold the perfect gift, the Christ child ... like mary. 

looking out my front window ...  sometimes God is so incredibly clear.

{grace words: treasuring. pondering. still. noel}

okay, so here's the (infamous) N O E L ...

becky's writing some grace words this morning too! check her out at THE WORD OF GOD AND A CUP OF JOE!

the treasure of traditions

emily's first christmas

"for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." ~ matthew 6:21

funny that on this first day of a new year i am thinking of old things. but all week long, i've been itching to write a piece about the things from the past and the things we pass down --traditions.  something familiar.  something we repeat.  something we grow to expect.  even something we often take for granted.  do you have them in your home?

 january 1st.  and i think it is a perfect time to consider and even a better time to begin.

i remember the year, as a young mom, when i realized the importance of traditions for my children.  i'll be honest, it was a panicky sort of feeling.  like forgetting to turn off the oven before leaving for vacation or failing to pick up the toddler after a long day at preschool.  i had these four little kids and i wasn't sure what we were intentionally doing to create memories and pass down practices.  i had grown up with traditions -- especially around the holidays. they were the backbone of what we did as an extended family in our time together, back home in ohio.  every birthday celebration was sure to include grandma's graham cracker cake.  every christmas eve meant cousins and presents and a big dinner at her massive, dark mahogany table. (and let's be clear here, the adult table: mahogany. the kids table: card). it meant her sugar cookies rolled out from real dough.  it meant my uncle rog telling funny stories and the rest of us laughing until our sides hurt.  it meant the cousins hiding in rooms making mischief and the parents sitting around pretending they weren't in charge for awhile (by the way, i get that now).  it meant card games or gin rummy after dessert. it meant all piling into cold cars at the end of the evening and singing silent night at st. john's 11pm candlelight service.  it meant the same old same old, year after year after year.

and, of course, i took so much of it for granted.

i never had to think about it.  i grew up in the same house with the same grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles all nearby. and we all did the same thing for my entire childhood.  i am not sure my parents ever even thought about it.  i think we just did what we did...and the by product was, some pretty great traditions.  my brother, just last week, posted this on facebook:  "Kind of missing my grandparents on this Christmas Eve. Our family used to gather in their home to celebrate this special time and exchange our little gifts that we usually purchased at the school's Santa's Workshop. We ate well, laughed hard and sang loud with a good gin rummy card game to boot. Great times indeed! "  i'm 44, my brother about to turn 46, and we both miss my grandmother's christmas eve gathering. it was what we did. and i think that has to say something.  the repeat and recall of practices can be that powerful.

but back to the young mother i was years ago.  four small children and we lived in atlanta, far, far away from my grandmother's house or my parents house, for that matter.  far away from cleveland, ohio.  and one year at christmas, all of a sudden, it occurred to me:  i was in charge.  my mom and grandmother weren't there. i was now the holiday magic maker, the matriarchal-mother figure and i had to come up with something -- and quick!  these kids were growing up, like before my very eyes.  i'd blink and they'd add an inch.  a pound.  a year.  and i began to sweat, wondering, what ever will they remember?  too many episodes of "frosty the snowman" and some store bought cookies? NO!  i wanted something richer, deeper, more profound.  i wanted something clever and catchy and captivating to carry them into their adulthood.

in just a few weeks, emily will turn 17.  for her, that's a birthday. for me, it's a measuring stick signifiying 17 years of parenting.  and what's really scary about that number, is that though it might seem small for many of you reading this, for me it means 18 is right around the corner and very soon she will be out the door. i realize that parenting doesn't ever really end.  i realize that i will always be her mom.  i realize that traditions and customs can continue, but i also realize things change when kids leave.  when they don't wake up in your home every single morning for 365 days straight, everything shifts.  but let's not go there quite yet, okay?  (sob).  my point is, that we only have these kids at our kitchen counters for so long.  eventually, they will be wiping their own countertops (we hope) and starting their own families (in due time). and when that time does come (like in a 100 years) i want my kids to have something to pass down.  i want to hear them say, "this was the way we did it when i was growing up."  and i want it to be good. really good.

i am certain my kids will remember the chaos and confusion of our home.  none of us can pretend it doesn't exist.  we wear it like an ugly christmas sweater some days. garish and loud and often obnoxious.  it is part of what growing up in a large family feels like.  but i want them to have some other things to hold on to as well. when we left ohio in 1998 and headed south for atlanta, i never really imagined us living apart from our extended family forever, but it's been almost 15 years since we lived in the same city as a family member. rick and i were young with two babies, it felt more like we were still playing pretend,  playing house,  playing parents. but we moved away from family and siblings and cousins and customs and traditions. we were in a new land. we didn't know a soul, and it quickly became clear, we'd have to make up our own things as we went.  no mother or mother-in-law or grandmother was going to call and tell me to come on over for sunday pot roast and potatoes.  no, if we were going to give our kids roots and rememberances, we were going to have to do it on our own.  thus, the panicky feeling.

it took a couple more babies for me to really get into the mcnatt memory making groove, however.  but by the time connor was born, i was more certain than ever, it was time to make things stick. being the strange woman i am, i started to come up with long lists and detailed plans on how we were going to become authentic, traditional, legacy leaving folk.  holidays are always a good place to begin and so we started there -- trying ideas out, one after another.   putting them on like a pair of new shoes to see if they fit.  some we kept and some we quickly abandoned. we were a work in progress...still are.

what i realized in this process of conjuring up customs, though, was that we actually had some pretty good stuff already in place.  i began to see kids remember and to notice things repeat.  yes, we had to be intentional, but some of it happened naturally as well.  it's been almost a decade since connor was born and i look back this holiday season and am amazed at how many traditions are a part of our family as we head into 2013.

if you are one of those young moms reading this today, maybe i can encourage you in this new year to consider the treasured traditions you are teaching. it's a topic worth thinking about.  so often we are so caught up in the fires at hand that we forget the big vision of what we want to burn deeply into the hearts of our offspring.  i get that.  i'm a woman who can hardly plan anything more than a day or two in advance. i understand why it's hard to look far ahead and think larger than the crumbs on the counter. if you're anything like me, i have a few suggestions for you when it comes to beginning something new with your homes:

1.   it's never too late to start!  don't ever let that stop you from creating something good. so often, we use that excuse.  i have learned, even with teens, they are more open to something new than we think.  just do it.  start it.  begin.

2. it's okay to miss a year.  it happens.  if you forget or are sick or decide to go to hawaii,  you can always pick back up the next year. that's life.  don't let a hiatus or a hiccup change the course of your creativity.

3. write yourself a note if you need.  (i do that -- all the time).  "next year remember to _______"  it's okay if you need a cheat sheet.  write down your ideas.  and can i add, pinterest is the GREATEST!  talk about creative ideas! if you don't have an account, you just don't understand what you are missing.

so, to give this post a little bit of practicality, let me tell you about a few of the things we do.  we have some fun birthday traditions, but i'll focus on the christmas and new year's holiday.  please keep in mind.  there is nothing earth shattering here.  some of you do these things already.  or you do them bigger and better. i have no doubt. i am not at all attempting to impress you with my creativity,  i am only trying to encourage you to DO SOMETHING with yours!

a few of our holiday traditions...


1. every christmas eve, the whole family gets new pajamas. there was a day when i would spend great amounts of time making them all match, then just compliment... and now, i don't really care,  just something that fits!  BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU...this is a HUGE deal to my kids. they begin talking about it days before december 24th.  it means a lot.  i am not 100% sure why.  they have drawers full of sleepwear (most of which they don't wear, choosing, instead, sweatpants and t-shirts) BUT they love their christmas eve pajamas.  and do you really want to know why? because it's a TRADITION!  holla!

2.  also on christmas eve, they get a special ornament signifying some kind of event, milestone or memory from that year.  sometimes i make them, most of the time i buy them. the truth is, I HAVE A LOT OF FUN thinking about what each one should be.  it is the ONLY item for which i shop ahead.  it is the only thing i always have in the back of my mind throughout the year - their annual ornament. my plan is that by the time each child leaves home and has their own tree, they'll have 20+ years of ornaments to take with them.  as you can imagine with five kids (plus rick gets one each year, too) we have an awful lot of ornaments to hang each christmas -- thus the two trees!  every year, i love the conversation surrounding the ornaments as we decorate.  "oh, i remember this one!  i got this the year i..."

3.  one of my favorite christmas eve traditions is our gingerbread house competition.  i suppose i like it because it keeps the kids really well occupied on a day when there is still lots to do.  they are focused and creative for almost an hour straight.  i also love seeing what they come up with each year and how they improve.  we used to make it a big competition with judging and awards, but had to put an end to the competitive edge when it got ugly one year.  no one wants hurt feelings and tears on christmas eve.  now we just set aside an hour or more in the afternoon...put on some christmas carols...set out some snacks and assemble the houses.  we have learned important things like cans of beans or soup make great supports while waiting for the roof to hold! all of my kids could tell you that!

4.  another every-year-event is the baking of a "happy birthday Jesus" cake.  we started that tradition when connor was a little guy and acted confused about the connection of Jesus' birthday and christmas.  apparently he had somehow missed that part of the story. i was, of course, horrified and set about making sure we didn't miss the whole birthday thing ever again!  we bake the cake on christmas eve and christmas day we sing happy birthday to Jesus and eat it for dessert.  connor, i'd like you to know, is now fully informed on how christmas and the birth of Jesus fit together. whew!

and it's not just the birthday cake, but other things we cook and bake are traditional. this year my oldest, emily, hounded me about when we'd make the peppermint bark and sugar cookies and puppy chow.  she also knew, without a doubt, that her grammie mcnatt, though a thousand miles away, would still manage to send a tin of buckeyes.  (chocolate balls with peanut butter centers). it is just so good to know you can count on something to be the same.   maybe that's what traditions really are. maybe it's not just about the good ideas, but it's about having something to count on, something we recognize and remember.  that's the true beauty of a good tradition.

5.  one last idea we came up with years ago is our new year's day candlelight spaghetti dinner.  i know there are traditional foods served on this holiday:  ham and black eyed peas or corn beef and cabbage...that kind of thing.  but my kids have always been big lovers of spaghetti.  yep, spaghetti.  and we love rick's mom's recipe, so years ago, we started making a little event out of our new year's day dinner with a candlelight spaghetti dinner.  it's a big deal at my house.  you can't cheat -- you have to use candles.  no matter what the ages of your children,  having an entire dinner by candlelight, spaghetti or sirloin, makes it REALLY special.  we sit in the dining room, just like on christmas, and we use the good china and the real silver and i pour their sparkling grape juice in real, glass stemware and we celebrate our new year.  that's what we do.  tonight, at this year's celebration, we've invited a couple of families over to join with us. and, just like in years past, we will eat by candlelight and we will serve spaghetti.  nothing fancy in that food, but something special in that same old...

okay, so there are just a few things.  a few thoughts and ideas.  we have some other, more spiritual things, i suppose, as well:  the lighting of the advent wreath, the reading of the christmas story, the tradition of serving someone else in need. in past posts, i've written about those parts of our christmas, too.  all of it is important: the pajamas, the candles, the card games and the birthday cake.  not because any one of those things holds the entire essence of christmas, but all of them together work to create the rare treasure of tradition.

wishing all of you, God's blessing and perfect peace in this happy new year!

"The merry family gatherings-- 

The old, the very young; 

The strange, lovely way they 

Harmonize in carols sung. 

For Christmas is tradition time-- 

Traditions that recall 

The precious memories down the years, 

The sameness of them all." 

-- Helen Lowrie Marshall 

how christmas comes...and goes.

i am always amazed at how christmas comes.  fast and furious, for sure.  but also with the greatest anticipation.  i think we are all kind of wired with tremendous expectation for this blessed holiday, this once a year event.  i know i am.  i would bet good money, most of you are, too.  we expect much. not necessarily gifts or things,  but something miraculous to happen:  everything to go smoothly, serenely, perfectly.  even when we tell ourselves and our family members we have no expectation, secretly, somehow, we do.  and i'm not just talking about the kids, adults, we expect things as well.  on christmas, anything is possible and everything has great potential.  it just does, and there is almost no way to escape that little kernel of hope deep inside each one of us -- that little nugget of "just maybe..."

if we keep our eyes on the birth of Jesus, we know it is exactly that -- possible. potential. incredible.  full with hope and holiness. our highest expectation met and surpassed. the present of perfection:  a Savior, come.

but, we are living in a worldly world, and, on occasion, it rubs off on us.  okay, i'll speak for myself, it rubs off on me.   and if you haven't been able to tell by now,  i want my world picture perfect thank you very much. i want a bow on every gift and a deliciously cooked roast in the oven. i want a full, live, sweetly smelling tree and a warm, brightly glowing fire.  i want a clean house and happy children.  i want cookies to bake and everything to fit. peace and harmony and the scotch tape to be where i last left it.  i want cozy pajamas and cooperative kiddos.  i want a helpful husband and a gentle dusting of snow.  lights which twinkle outdoors and a puppy who doesn't tinkle indoors.  i want it all.  especially at christmas.

and i have to tell you, it feels like we've had it all this week.  all of those things happened (well, to some extent, they happened.  maybe not the clean house, okay, definitely not the clean house, but the rest of it came close).  we surprised the kids with a new puppy on christmas morning.  oh, the absolute rejoicing of it all! connor (and i'm not kidding) burst into tears.  the kind of tears where he had his face in his hands sobbing with joy.  all five of them were over the moon.  (if you have never surprised your children with a christmas morning puppy, i highly recommend it --one of my all time highs to date). there are almost no words to express the utter thrill of that moment when she entered in her red bow and fluffy brown coat.  miss minnetonka or "minne" is a delight. she's a puppy, no doubt, but a real darling little girl and getting along beautifully.  i'm sure i'll have more to write on this large, newfoundland pup in the future.

so christmas came with a lot of joy this year. our first christmas in minnesota has given our family many wonderful moments and memories:  my oldest son, on the lake, trying out his new ice fishing gear before we had even eaten our christmas brunch.  a new puppy curled up at our feet.  kids ice skating out the window while i prepared christmas dinner. cinnamon punch chilling and my husband singing as he attempted to restore order to the house.  roast in the oven, candles in the window and snow gently falling. you know, the typical norman rockwell stuff.

but, as is always the case, christmas came bearing a few not so pretty and polite presents as well.  the two oldest kids were sick with the flu the weekend before, and i came down with it christmas night. both christmas trees are as dead as dead can be. the poinsettia plants are drooping and the strands of garland are brittle and breaking.  the new puppy has pottied a time or two in the house, a toy has broken and some things didn't fit.  it seems more snow's been tracked indoors than out. we've had a few spills, some dishes dropped and a dangerous sled ride. the kids have argued.  even the parents have argued.  we ran out of sweet tea, water bottles and almost out of milk. bella's also had a heck of cough and cold, making her not the most agreeable 4 year old this week.  i bruised my tailbone trying to play both photographer and figure skater out on the ice and my helpful husband had to hit the grocery store too many times because his wife just can't make a complete list no matter how hard she tries.  the laundry is piled high and the cereal boxes are growing alarmingly low.  i'm probably in need of a doctor and some antibiotics....i'm at least in dire need of a housekeeper and a spa day.   but still...

right now as i write this a few nights after christmas, i am sitting here (puppy at my feet) and am feeling ridiculously blessed.  even though i'm still slightly feverish and have to stop and wipe my nose every other sentence, i feel blessed.  content.  wednesday night my three oldest kids had five friends fly in from atlanta to stay with us for this week.  five mcnatt kids plus five more kids!  let's see, that would bring the kid count to a grand total of 10!  ten kids under our roof this christmas week and it has been the best thing ever.  i mean i would have certainly chosen a better time to get sick, but regardless, christmas has just kept coming this year.  there really is no earthly gift my kids could have gotten that would rival the arrival of 5 best buddies from back home hanging out with them.  and the past few days have proved that true many times over.  i've never seen so many socks and shoes and snow pants and hats and gloves and boots in one place in my life.  i've never seen so many pancakes and cookies and slices of pizza disappear so quickly.  but despite the mess and the chaos and the kids in every corner of the house, we are all continuing to christmas.

~our christmas 2012 snapshot~

{five friends arriving. kids embracing. four wheel driving. fires blazing. presents unwrapping. bedroom sharing. evergreen crumbling. children rejoicing. cookies quickly disappearing. hot chocolate making. soup simmering. snow boots, ice skates and  gloves a wearing. scarves and hats and thermal underwear everywhere. mattresses on the floor. jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table. leftover roast beef sandwiches. sledding. skating. skiing. snowboarding. treks across the frozen lake. island exploring. minne cuddling. the flu. 2 am bedtimes. 5 am risings (new puppy schedule). bedrooms in disaster. hockey sticks. big breakfasts. good books. smart wool socks. dripping noses and red cheeks. sparkling eyes. late night movies. girls giggling. iphones and instagram. breakfasts and lunches and dinners blending.  words with friends. guitar playing. kids laughing. pictures snapping. puppy barking. north and south friends meeting.temperatures freezing. dishwasher constantly running. woman constantly cooking. someone always eating. games playing. snow falling. family praying. stories telling. hearts filling. christmas break enjoying. memories making.}

it's clearly been a wonderful week of christmas in the mcnatt home, but as the dear ones depart and christmas begins to give her goodbyes,  my hope is that each of you has also experienced a rich week of blessing .  that you've been surrounded with good friends and great family. maybe you haven't trekked across a frozen lake or played with a large-pawed, newfoundland puppy, but, my prayer is that you, too, have had some time to rest up and, above all else, to remember the Christ-child and the full perfection only He can bring.   i am pretty certain, no matter how hard any of us have tried to control the coming of our christmas, we are all now watching it go with a little bit of chaos and a little bit of mess left behind.  because that's how it comes... and that's how it leaves.  holy and hopeful...beautiful and blessed...wild and wonderful.  messy and miraculous. christmas.

heading out to snowboard and ski for the day

the four amigos...off to explore minnesota.

crossing the ice to crane island (with lots of caution and instruction).

hangout spot in the evening.

minne's favorite spot!

beautiful girls.  beautiful friends.

more beautiful girls...and eli.

everyone loved to nap with minne

best potty-trainer ever!

heading out for a trek across the lake

first time on ice skates for bella!

a little pond or lake hockey (thanks mrs. larkin and piche family for sticks and skates!)

the whole crew!