There is Still Time for a Silent Night

     

      I walked into church to pick up Ella from preschool and caught the eye of a fellow momma friend whose daughter is in Ella's class.

"Phewww…" she said, "I've been running around like crazy all morning. Errands and Christmas presents and trying to get back here. Do you feel that way?"

Yes. Yes. Yes I do.

I too had been running around all morning…and then all afternoon; picking Ella up from preschool, grabbing Aubrey from my moms, bringing Aubrey home for a nap, sneaking out with Ella to go back to Ava's school for a Christmas party, and then home for a snack before gymnastics. We dropped Ava off, got Ella's hair cut,  picked Ava up and and rushed everyone home for dinner

And that doesn't even include any of the  running around for gifts and Christmas preparations that has been going on in-between.

I would have skipped baths all together that night, but a very creative mother painted all of the kids feet green in school earlier that day (for a Christmas craft) and so Ava's elvish feet needed a cleaning!

The kids went to bed and I took a deep breath and watched 15 minutes of some kind of holiday ridiculousness on television (I think it was SNL Christmas skits from the last 20 years).

I finally turned the television off, deciding a quiet house was better than all of the craziness on t.v. and thought for a few minutes about Christmas and what it all means and why it feels so hectic.

I've read so many essays and blog posts and articles lately on how overindulgent the season has become and I can't help but agree. EVERYTHING is so over done. The number of gifts we buy, the amount of food that we eat, the number of cookies we are supposed to make, the lights and the decorations and the shopping and the cards.

I love a lot of those things in and of themselves, but with three young children to care for and a house to take care of I've realized I need to be very deliberate about what we can and cannot do. We didn't put lights on the house. We didn't make it to any of the local theatre productions that I would have loved to go to. We didn't make the Christmas treats for the neighbors that I would have loved to make. I bought a handful of craft supplies to make ornaments…I think we got to one of the five I had planned.

Our Christmas card hasn't gone out yet (though I'm partially blaming that on the company we ordered them from because they were supposed to be here much sooner!).

As I drove out to pick Ella up from preschool on that morning I was listening to Christmas songs in the car and thought to myself, "Where is the Silent Night?"

Where is the peace? Where is the holy? What is all of this stuff all about? 

I couldn't help thinking about how all of this stuff that we are supposed to do and buy and make has become a major distraction from the one and only thing we are actually supposed to be thinking about at Christmas…It has become a very big distraction from centering our minds on Christ.

Christ is where the peace is. Christ is where the holy is. Christ is where the quiet joy is.

But in order to find and focus on Christ we must be very, very intentional. We must stop the running and just sit, quietly. We must skip some cookie making and cultivate a quiet heart.

As I once heard a wise mom from my church say…We must put first things first. 

What does that look like? What does that mean? 

For me it's meant asking myself everyday…What is MOST important today? 

Yesterday I wrote this in my journal in answer to that question:

-That my girls know I love them.
-That we talk about Jesus and the real Christmas story.
-That we laugh and find joy in these weeks.

That's it!

And then I jotted down a couple of things that I thought we could do that would integrate the most important things into our lives…

-Hug the girls.
-Sit with them and read a Christmas book about the nativity.
-Watch Charlie Brown's Christmas (I love the part at the end where Pigpen recites the Christmas story!).
-Ask an intentional question around the dinner table. Something like, "If you were one going to see baby Jesus what would you bring as a gift?"

I find that if I've done these things by the end of the day I feel much more peaceful than if I've checked 12 things off of the errand list. Funny thing is, when you put first things first you are forced to let go of some of the other things. When you put the other things first you never get to the important things. 

We make the choice.

But I also realized something else…There is some sense of hectic, and hurry and franticness inherent to this season that I must simply learn to accept. It's a natural part of life and of preparing for a celebration or party or event. When I paint expectations of all of these preparations happening without any hangups, or busyness I'm not painting a very realistic picture for myself.

As I thought about that I thought, Even Christ was born into some chaos. That night that he came into the world, in a stable, so very long ago, was not as quiet  or the "silent night" that the song makes it out to be. Not all of it, anyway.

Mary had a baby in a barn for goodness sake.

I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I would have been such a good sport about having a baby in a barn. With animals. And hay. In the middle of a city so brimming with people that every hotel room was full.

I'm guessing that wasn't in Mary's birth plan.

Nevertheless, while the moment and place of Jesus' birth was probably not very "silent", I'm guessing there were some very beautiful, and incredibly holy moments after all was said and done. When Mary finally held her baby boy, the promised savior of the world, in her arms for the first time.

I'm sure she kissed his head, and took deep breaths and for a few moments was able to say…It IS well with my soul and ALL is good.

So, while the season may be hectic, and while there is a lot to do, and many people to see... there can be quiet, holy moments in the midst of it all.

We must be intentional about them.

In a culture that is over the top on all things Christmas (that really have little to do with Christmas), we must be intentional about bringing the holy into our lives. We must stop, and focus on what really matters.

The other night I printed out some Christmas songs and told Scott we needed to do something that reflected the true spirit of Christmas…I didn't want the whole month to go by in such a flurry that I felt I had missed the real heart of Christmas with the girls. I like to give presents, and we have an Elf of the Shelf floating around, and the local youth bureau sent Santa letters to the girls. That is all fun for sure, but it is a small part of the REAL picture.

Silent Night is actually one of the songs I've been teaching the girls this year. They also love Away in a Manger…and of course Jingle Bells.

We grabbed those songs, and two books about the Christmas nativity story, and Scott's guitar. We turned off all of the lights in the living room and laid blankets in the only clean spot on that floor (there was laundry and toys and diapers and messiness EVERYWHERE) and Scott strummed those chords and we sang our songs.

Ella had a slight temper tantrum in the middle of it all (lest you think this was a perfectly, perfect moment…they never are!) because she wanted to hold the music, but all and all it was one of the few things we've done in the last three weeks that I felt truly reflected the Christmas that I want our girls to experience.

A Christ centered Christmas.

When I think about that moment I realize, in some ways, it was similar to Mary's night in the barn. A holy moment happening in the middle of mess and chaos.

What if we started to realize that many of our holy moments might just take place in messy places? In messy living rooms, or singing in the car, or reading scripture with our children in the morning while they are smearing eggs on the table and using their pajamas as napkins.

Christ's coming into the world the way that he did did not meet ANYONE's expectations for how a savior would come to earth.

Perhaps our expectations for how picture perfect and serene and idyllic Christmas is supposed to be needs a little tweaking too.

If you feel like the month is rushing on in a flurry, and you're missing the real, peace-filled, Christ centered moments, it's not too late.

Print out a version of the Christmas scripture for your children and read it to them by the Christmas tree.

Teach them lyrics to sweet songs about baby Jesus.

Talk about Christ as the gift to our world.

Find ways to give to someone less fortunate (we are thankful to our church and preschool for providing several opportunities for these types of things in the last month.) Talk about those experiences and the importance of them.

Put first things first. I promise it will feel better than making an extra batch of cookies or accomplishing that last Pinterest craft.

The eternal impact on your kids will far outweigh the external impact of the decorations and you might just begin to feel a little bit of your own silent and holy night in the middle of your messy living room too.




p.s. I've printed a handful of our Christmas songs from this website, which also has very easy sheet music for children (I was showing the girls how to play some of the easier songs on our keyboard).

http://makingmusicfun.net


p.p.s the image above was borrowed from http://www.thatartistwoman.org/2008/12/how-to-make-nativity-silhouette-art.html which offers a tutorial on how to create a similar painting with kids.

A Million Little Ways: A Book Review

From time to time I get an email invitation from Revell asking if I'd be interested in doing a blog review about a new book they have coming out.

I used to say "yes" to more of these review invitations, but books require time, especially if you're going to read the entire thing and then write a review....Time is not something I have a whole lot of these days and so I've said more "no's" than "yes's" lately.

That said, back in October I got an invitation to review A Million Little Ways: Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live by Emily Freeman and couldn't say no (despite knowing that I didn't have a whole lot of time for the "yes"!)

In part because I enjoy Emily Freeman's writing. I love her blog, Chatting At the Sky. I love the way she captures the simple and makes it profound.

I also love art, the idea of creating art (in the many different forms that can take for each person on an individual level), and anything on the topic of creativity.

Part of me knew I'd find it a challenge to get the book read on time. Part of me also thought, I shouldn't read this right now because it's going to inspire me to want to do things I don't have time to do or pursue. 

However, I said yes and I'm so glad I did.

And even though this review is an entire month late (sorry to the folks at Revel!)…I'm so glad to add this book to my repertoire of non-fiction, inspirational books on creativity.

In this book Freeman compels others to look within themselves for clues to who God created them to be, and to live from those truths in a way that blesses others through the sharing of our art; whether that take the form of something more traditional like a painting, book, or song. Or whether you find new ways to be creative in your gardening, house decorating, or cooking.

In reference to her title, there are a million little ways God creates us to create. We simply need to  listen more carefully and then live more artistically.

While I LOVED the book as a whole, I did find it hard to wrap my head around the first few chapters. I confess, if could just be mommy brain- I have a hard time wrapping my head around a lot of things lately! Whatever the case I mention that in case you start to read it and think, This isn't my thing. Stick with it, you won't be disappointed.

The beginning chapters seemed more theological and philosophical to me. You all know that I'm not in a very philosophical stage of life…we are practical and nitty gritty over here in the land of diapers and construction paper and finger paint. But the chapters seem to become more practical about a third of the way through the book and once I hit those chapters I was completely engaged, underlining huge chunks of text and making lots of mental notes!


Here is a quick summary from the publisher about the book: 

The majority of us would not necessarily define ourselves as artists. We're parents, students, businesspeople, friends. We're working hard, trying to make ends meet, and often longing for a little more--more time, more love, more security, more of a sense that there is more out there. The truth? We need not look around so much. God is within us and he wants to shine through us in a million little ways.

A Million Little Ways uncovers the creative, personal imprint of God on every individual. It invites the discouraged parent, the bored Christian, the exhausted executive to look at their lives differently by approaching their critics, their jobs, and the kids around their table the same way an artist approaches the canvas--with wonder, bravery, and hope. In her gentle, compelling style, Emily Freeman encourages readers to turn down the volume on their inner critic and move into the world with the courage to be who they most deeply are. She invites regular people to see the artistic potential in words, gestures, attitudes, and relationships. Readers will discover the art in a quiet word, a hot dinner, a made bed, a grace-filled glance, and a million other ways of showing God to the world through the simple human acts of listening, waiting, creating, and showing up.

And some of my favorite quotes: 

Our imaginations are endless. You get to frame things in a way only you can, with a voice only you have…Does the world need another book? Song? Painted living rom? Not necessarily. But the world does need you come come alive right where you are and not where you wish you were. If writing books or songs or painting living rooms is what makes you come alive, then that's what you'll need to do. (Chapter 6, See)



For those of us who have a dream tucked away in our back pocket, perhaps it's time to bend our ear toward the craziest of ideas and hear what they have to say. Over the years, that dream may have taken on many different names in your mind: Silly. Ridiculous. Hobby. Foolish. Impossible. Waste of time…Doubt and fear have convinced you to keep it hidden, convoked you to rename that dream Wrong.

What would it take for you to pull your dream out again, to stop taunting it with cruel names and to simply listen to what it has to say? No filters. No back talk. No eye rolls. Dare to handle it, to hold it in your hands and consider it with kindness and compassion.

What is your moon, your airplane, your boy-wizard book? What is your brave lyric, your odd first chapter, your new business motto? What is your crazy idea? No, not your perfect idea. Not your logical, well-plannd, power-pointed practical idea. There's a place for those too. But many times the most logical ideas start out crazy. What is your crazy idea and what should you do with it?

Maybe you should chase it.    (Ch. 7, Listen)



Wonder is normal for little ones. They haven't yet learned to categorize their appreciation of art into worth and waste…A child sees the wonder, takes it in, picks it up, and walks among it. A rock, a leaf, a  giraffe, a violinist-- it's all wonderful to him. He plays an air guitar, draws a picture of a tree, traces his hands on a piece of blue paper. Why not?

The east with which I am able to release the art I was made to live seems directly related to my willingness to embrace wonder. (Ch. 11, Wonder)



We are the mirrors of God on earth, the megaphones of glory, the hands and eyes and hearts of heaven.

God is the Artist and he has made us.

We are his poem and we will make art.    (Ch. 12, Create)



This book has something for everyone, whether you consider yourself the "creative" type or not. It is deeply spiritual and incredibly encouraging.

Here is a link to read more about it if you are interested…www.christianbook.com

When the Scribbles are Intentional

The morning had rushed on in a flurry of kitchen clean up, and bedroom clean up and paper sorting and baby care. Each task I found myself engulfed in was accompanied by the steady cadence of an internal reminder…"As soon as I finish this I will _________ with Ella."

The blank was filled in with a variety of activities; read, color, play a game, ask her what she would like to do.

And just as I would finish one thing, say unloading the dishwasher, the baby would cry or have rolled over to the library book basket, pulled out a book, stuck part of it in her mouth and managed to rip a corner off the last page.

Ella looks at me with wide eyes and alarm.

"Yup. We'll just tape that right back on and it will be as good as new."

Before you know it I'm on to something else and I STILL haven't sat to play with my sweet, round faced four year old.  I wish I could say that this is just the pattern of one singular day, but sadly, it seems many mornings go this way…you know with a nursing baby, and a 1st grader to get off to school and the craziness of three young girls…and the messes and laundry and meal making…

I try, try, try to be intentional with them, but the flurry of needs and activity can leave me wondering how whole days have gone by and a book hasn't been read or a page colored.

Sometimes, I've come to realize, creating intentional moments in the midst of raising young children can feel like trying to play a chess game outside in the middle of a hurricane.

It's kind of hard to focus. And the pieces start to topple over. And you're chasing them across the yard. And you're not sure which end is up. And just when you get the blown over game pieces set up again…Woosh!

Maybe it's just my life, but never the less...

Oh parenthood!

(Forgive me if you feel like I've said this before, or some version of it too often lately, but it seems to be the dominant theme of this season of life and I'm trying to figure it out as I go. So thanks for listening again!)

On that particular day, the baby eventually went down for her afternoon nap and Ella and I cuddled on the couch to read books and play a game and do workbook pages. We had a fantastic time together and I felt grateful to have had a few moments to connect with just her.

Just as I was about to say "Alright, before the baby wakes up I need to go do some laundry" I spotted the large, poster board sized post it note pages that Scott almost threw out the night before but deemed potentially kid-friendly.

"Hey Ella, want to color a picture?"

Her eyes lit up. "Sure mom!"

Despite the fact that massive amounts of laundry did need to be done, and ideally before her older sister got home (because then things get really nutty), I looked at her and thought…"Oh gosh…she goes to kindergarten next year and then she won't be here during these quiet moments to color with. She'll be coloring with an art teacher and 19 other energetic kindergarteners." 

I put one of those pages on the wall in our hallway and grabbed a box of crayons. I suggested a Christmas tree (it seemed the obvious choice at this time of year) and soon we were sketching tree branches and ornaments and piles of presents under the tree.

Apparently, in her mind anyways, this tree was outdoors because she added a moon and birds.

I told her we needed some stars.

She decided we needed some wind.

And so with her sweet, still slightly pudgy four-year-old hand she drew crazy wisps of wind all over that page. Wisps that to the bystander might just look like scribbles. They were not scribbles in her world. Every scratch of crayon on that page had intention.

I love her imagination and her creativity. I look forward to seeing where that creative mind will wander and what she will create and pursue someday. I hope this moment and many others in her days at home create a foundation and a passion for the creative that will always be with her.

I think about her intentional wind and how crazy it looked. And I think about our lives right now and how crazy they feel.

And yet, within the craziness, despite the craziness, in the midst of the craziness, we must intentionally carve out moments to spend in real meaningful ways.  Like that Christmas tree and those birds and the stars in our picture, standing steady and beautiful in the face of blowing wind…

Like the presents she drew underneath that tree…if we unwrapped them…if I unwrap them…there might be small ornaments or trinkets within those packages with words delicately written: abundance, blessing, beauty, joy…

Even on the windy days.

Reflect: A Five Minute Friday post

When Scott and I lived in the Boston area in the days B.C. (before children!) we made many trips to New Hampshire to ski and hike.

New Hampshire is a beautiful state…a state full of mountains and long windy roads and hills full of trees and vistas and stunning scenery. Scott is an outdoorsman at heart. He worked at Eastern Mountain Sports for a short time in college, and owns things like ice axes, climbing ropes, glacier glasses (very round, odd looking sun glasses that I almost laughed at when he first put them on!) and head lamps. 

I'm a girl who likes the outdoors, but who also appreciates a functioning toilet nearby. 

He fell in love with the idea that I liked the outdoors enough to try rock climbing with him when we first met. I fell in love with the rugged, Birkenstock wearing enthusiast that he was. Our differences have often met in humorous ways in between- like when he anchored me to a tree so that I could belay him while rock climbing.

Or when we have argued about the best use of three hours in the woods…

"But babe, I just wanted to take a nice hike, on the path, up the side of the mountain. I didn't really want to set ropes and scale it from the side." 

"Well…what fun is that?" 

Hahaha.Sigh. 

And that is where marriage meets…at the intersection of what we were hoping for from our partners and the reality of what is. 

It's a messy thing. And a beautiful thing. And while it seems to not make sense sometimes I am reminded that God saw the bigger picture of our relationship while we were only seeing, with rose colored glasses, a small part of who we believed our partner to be. 

And when we butt heads over house chores and child rearing and how to best spend our time and money…When it seems like our differences are bigger than our similarities... It does me some good to reflect. 

On where we have been, and what we have done together. On how far we have come in thirteen years together. On the ways that God has provided for us. On that ways that He saw fit for an emotional, bookish, artistic girl with a whimsical heart to be joined with an outdoorsman with a business degree and a love of apple pies.

With how our two, becoming one, has become three and then four and now five. 

Reflection reminds me that all is as it should be. All as God intended for it to be. That my idiosyncrasies and imbalances, combined with his, somehow make up a more balanced picture. The perfect set of parents for our three little cherubs. 

When we were hiking those mountains in New Hampshire we often came across little rock formations that look like this…

A cairn, or trail marker made out of rocks to mark the path. From the top of a mountain looking down you can see where you have been and where you are going…All at once you feel a sense of accomplishment for what you have done and renewed hope to continue on your journey. 

We all have moments in our lives that serve as trail markers in the same way…What are the trail markers in your past, standing tall and strong in your memories? Maybe it's the story of how you met? Or how God interceded in your relationship? Maybe it's the day your babies were born? Or a wonderful trip that you took together? 

Reflection reminds us…by looking backwards... to see forwards with renewed perspective. 

So, until the kids are a little bit bigger and we can reconnect with the passions that originally brought us together, I will enjoy the moment by looking back to see where we've been. I will breathe in the joy of where we are. And I will allow it to carry us forward to where we are going with a renewed sense of passion and enthusiasm. 

And, in the meantime, I just might count my blessings that I'm not being tied to a tree. (:

This post is part of 5 Minute Fridays hosted by Lisa Jo Baker. To read more posts like this or to learn more about 5 Minute Fridays click here.