Silent Night...sort of

"Giiiiirls," I want to roar to my daughters and niece loudly giggling upstairs, "go to SLEEP!"  But I don't.  I just sit here on the couch, tucked under my new Christmas gift- a heated fleece blanket, and listen to the symphony of gently competitive snores composed by my husband and chocolate lab pup.  I watch what was once a roaring fire simmer down to winking embers and cast a lazy glance at the frozen screen on my t.v.  Why, I wonder, would anyone want to watch the next episode of Shark Week on Netflix?  Especially during the Christmas octave...what happened to all the sweet Holiday movies which accompanied the wee hours filled with wrapping and baking a mere week ago?  I will keep this question to myself and allow my tired husband to peacefully snooze away lest he defend why he chose this as night time viewing pleasure to begin with.
 However, on this particular night...at 11:45 p.m. when all is finally reaching a near state of calm in our home which houses 9 of us (plus said niece for the night) I prefer to sit and take in the sound of the furnace softly whirring, hear the water that runs as our soon to be 17 year-old brushes his teeth.  I look over at the dangling foot of our ten-year old curled up, fast- asleep on the recliner (hey, it's vacation...and three of his siblings were allowed to fall asleep in our bed), and I am grateful for the ordinary moments.

  This has been a holiday of the glorious mundane.  I did not go out much.  I did a gazillion loads of laundry and loaded the dishwasher countless times.  I made several pots of hot chocolate to warm fingers that were numbed in soaked mittens now littering every inch of heater vent on the first floor...maybe the second floor as well.  I picked up dozens of candy wrappers from now-flattened stockings and swept up more than a few broken ornaments- and I am Peaceful.  I am content.  I do not feel short-changed by viewing smiling faces from the Bahamas on Facebook and I can not even claim to feel ashamed that I did not get out family photos in Christmas cards...well, hope springs eternal...I still have a bit of time.  I AM thankful for every card and photo that arrived in our mail- they put a smile on my face as I walked to the washing machine for the umpteenth time.  I am happy to "just be" these days.
  I am simply grateful that in my life, which feels precarious right now with my oldest sister fighting for her life against an incredibly progressed state of cancer and a brother-in-law battling to breathe due to cancer...I can have these rare moments that feel normal and PEACE-full.  I know tomorrow is a new day with new beauties and different challenges...but THIS moment...this quiet time...is for reveling in.  Even the giggling upstairs has mellowed to an occasional muffled "sshhh" above me.
 Well, hello...what's this?  My eldest son, done brushing his teeth pokes his head around the corner "Good night Mom."  "Good night son, I love you."  "So," he asks, "Have you given any thought to my birthday request?" Uuuum, I feel a bit like a deer in the headlights as I honestly cast around in my weary memory-bank but come up empty-handed.  "Sorry honey, I'm drawing a blank here." He casts a glance toward his sleeping father and bravely reminds me, "about the tattoo? Ok...good night then, I'd like to talk with you and Dad together...soon."  Siiigh...I was wise to revel in the Peace while I could.  Well, perhaps I'm to realize in the scope of issues out there...this is small.  And if he is the first of seven children...this will one day feel mundane.  One day.
  My faded fire has found it's second wind...the heater has kicked on again.  I figure I must have strength and composure stored up in me somewhere.  I'm sure my sister would give anything for a son's tattoo to to be the most dramatic thing she could imagine as opposed to her markers being "off the charts."  I'd be willing to bet my heated fleece that my other sister would gladly tattoo "Alleluia" across her forehead if her husband could heal from this dreaded disease.
  It is quiet again.  Silent Night.
 I am Peaceful. Holy Night. 
I am grateful for the many blessings of this moment and for every grace I've been given to help me slow down and appreciate these very moments...where at present...All is Calm.

     

The Spirit of Easter (by Diane Gallagher)

Happy Easter! It's guest blogger Wednesday :)

"And the winner of the 'Spirit of Easter' Award goes to ... Lily!"  My two year old was happily twirling around in our kitchen, singing a song and munching on her chocolate bunny sucker.  It was Easter morning, bright and early, and my husband decided that he is going to pronounce a winner of the spirit of Easter and spirit of Christmas on these holy days to affirm the child who best exhibits the meaning of the day.  While one of my sons was pouting because his basket was too hard to find and the goods inside were not to his liking (only a measly Game Stop gift card, premier chocolates from our favorite local candy store, an angry birds t-shirt and "Adventure in Odyssey" book  -- I  was challenged by my husband for being too generous.  I just was not pleasing anyone!), and one of my daughters was in full melt down over a fashion battle, we were struck by my two year old's simple gratitude. In fact, she would have been happy with her pop rocks and chocolate cross. 

She even threw aside her Hello Kitty sunglasses and Veggie Tales puzzle  What's more, she then proceeded to share her treats with Jim and I because we did not have baskets.  "Do you want a bean or chocolate, Mommy?"  Gratefulness.  Generosity. Or, in her own words when Jim asked her what she thought the Spirit of Easter meant, "love."  A lesson from a two year old.  I so desire to have a more grateful heart, a more generous spirit.  How often is God showering blessings upon me? Instead of standing in the middle of a rain  "shower," throwing my arms wide open and letting myself be soaked, I too often run for cover in the nearest building and then complain about how hot it is.

God is constantly giving me things and answering prayers.  It might not always be the things I want or the answers I am seeking, but it is what is best.  I pray that in this Easter season, 50 days of celebrating the Risen Christ, I can pay more attention to the gifts God has given me instead of dwelling on the "unanswered" prayers or requests.  Maybe next year  my husband can proclaim me to be the winner of the Spirit of Easter Award ... but only if I can learn to be grateful for the chocolate sucker instead of  wishing I had a  three pound solid bunny.

Living It:  For the 50 Days of Easter, keep a gratitude journal and write down three things you are thankful for each night.  I am going to do this too.  My Spiritual Director recommended it a while ago, and I have procrastinated long enough:)