Slowly over the past four years or so I've been intentional about keeping Advent as a separate season from Christmas. And each year, I get better at it. This Advent we really fostered a feeling of anticipation. We really were waiting. We really did deny ourselves most of the indulgent materialism of this world, hoping instead to stir up within ourselves a deeper longing for God and ultimately a closer connection to Him. We denied our senses the delight of the season until the season actually began, which made it all so much sweeter when, at last, it came.
Slowly the Christmas things emerged. The manger scene was out, but baby Jesus wasn't there. Each week another candle was lit on the advent wreath, each day an ornament was added to the Jesse tree. Each week, each day, we inched a little closer. We read a new book each day, and we prayed. We prayed rosaries, we prayed the angelus, we prayed novenas. And before I knew it, Christmas was here.
We had such a lovely Christmas day.
Our priest didn't allow a single bit of Christmas cheer into the church during Advent. It seems scrooge-ish, but it paid off in the end. When we came in from the cold into the dark church at midnight, the choir sang us carols in their heavenly voices and we sang along in our not-so-heavenly voices. Watching and listening to my 8-year-old sing these beautiful carols about the night our Savior was born in a little town called Bethlehem might just be my most favorite memory yet. After carols, the church burst to light with four large Christmas trees and our priest processed up the aisle with a large baby Jesus cupped in his hands. He reverently carried him to the front of the church and gently placed him in the creche beneath the Mary altar. Then, we had Midnight Mass.
When your ears are waiting so many days to hear those beautiful carols, and your eyes are waiting so long to see those twinkling lights, and your heart is waiting so impatiently to hear those good tidings of great joy... then when Christmas day comes, it's glorious to behold. The feast is good when you've first had the fast.
After Communion there is usually always a request on my lips.... But not tonight. This night I simply said thank you. That's all. Nothing more. Just my heartfelt thanks to you, Jesus.
When we came home from Mass at 2:00 in the morning, the children found the tree was as full as our hearts. They scurried off to bed so the morning would come quickly, but Oliver lingered. He always does. He needs extra time, extra attention, extra affection. Together we put baby Jesus in the manger scene, laying him softly on the bed of hay we had prepared for Him all during Advent. Every good deed done in our house was awarded with a piece of straw that was added to the manger, and I'm proud to say that baby Jesus had a good bed of hay to rest in at our house this year. We sang a quiet happy birthday to Jesus, just the two of us. Then I tucked him into bed.
I lingered, too. I looked at the twinkling lights and I saw that it was good. I have created something beautiful. A pretty picture of Christmas, lovingly wrapped up in shiny paper for happy, expectant children. It's not perfect, it's not heaven - far from it - but it is a sweet little taste.
Anja got a stencil set, a nerf crossbow, and the dollhouse she wanted which she was more than happy to share with her little brother. Oliver got his construction dress up outfit, his castle, and the Mega nerf gun he wanted. Elijah got a stack of books, space LEGOs, and a microscope. Little Isabelle got books and blocks and balls and a shape sorter.
How do we open presents in our house? Not in a mad frenzy. The kids take turns, one at a time, and they watch each other. It took a good hour and a half before all the gifts were opened.
Then I set to task filling our bellies. We made waffles and eggs and lots of bacon.
After the kids had opened their gifts and were busy with their new things, Court and I opened our gifts.
I have been out of coffee for over a week. I have been wanting coffee, and I have been wanting to order from Mystic Monk. I didn't breath a word of any of this to anyone, but wouldn't you know it that the first gift I opened from a dear friend was a package of Mystic Monk coffee. I could smell it through the paper. I wanted so badly to wake up on Christmas morning and open a package of coffee, and I actually did. It's the little things.
There was a box of tea, too.
My dear husband bought me everything I wanted. Fuzzy slippers, the exact pair I wanted in the right size. And he got me an audio recording I've really been wanting: Ralph Martin's talk on St. Catherine of Sienna. He also threw in a book, a holy card, and a medal for good measure. Because he is wonderful.
Books to read, talks to listen to, coffee and tea to taste, and the coziest slippers to dig my toes into... how could this day get any better?
Oh, but it did.
My dear, dear friend found this gem and I don't know how or where. It is a very old hand-embroidered cloth depicting Our Lady of Fatima.
Isn't it gorgeous? She gave me a book, Fatima Handbook, with it.
She also gave me a 1938 copy of Christ and the Fine Arts. It is an anthology of the life of Christ as He is portrayed by the four major fine arts - pictures, poetry, music and stories. Such a treasure. I have been reading the poems and swooning. It will be a great teaching tool as well. I am now bugging my friend via texts asking when I can come over and thank her in person because this kind of thoughtfulness deserves a hug.
After the gifts were opened and we were done pouring over our new treasures, we threw some clothes on and scrubbed faces and wrangled the kids into the car. That's right, this Christmas I spent zero time in the kitchen because our Christmas dinner was cooked and served to us on beautiful gold-trimmed plates by delightful friends. We shared wine and laughter and they sent us home with heaping plates of leftovers so I don't even have cook the next day either. Now that's a superb Christmas gift ... and you know, the company wasn't bad either. The value of God's gift of these marvelous friends is not overlooked by us: we are so grateful. They add an element of warmth & joy to our holiday that is missed when we live so far from family.
These aren't days to acquire more material goods in a frenzy. These are days to give and love and serve. There is a place in every human heart that can't be filled with stuff. Now is the time to idle for a few minutes in front of the manger scene. Sip it in slowly, don't guzzle. The first Christmas, which was planned by God Himself, involved a difficult journey, a rejection, a poorness. We can't out-do him with our trimmed trees, twinkling lights, glazed cookies, and ornate dishes. The best Christmas is the humble one.
Now that I've had my Advent of preparing my heart and opening it wide for Christ to be born, I am filled with His love and only too eager to share it with others. I'm sure there is a gap or two somewhere God wants me to fill.
Slowly the Christmas things emerged. The manger scene was out, but baby Jesus wasn't there. Each week another candle was lit on the advent wreath, each day an ornament was added to the Jesse tree. Each week, each day, we inched a little closer. We read a new book each day, and we prayed. We prayed rosaries, we prayed the angelus, we prayed novenas. And before I knew it, Christmas was here.
We had such a lovely Christmas day.
Our priest didn't allow a single bit of Christmas cheer into the church during Advent. It seems scrooge-ish, but it paid off in the end. When we came in from the cold into the dark church at midnight, the choir sang us carols in their heavenly voices and we sang along in our not-so-heavenly voices. Watching and listening to my 8-year-old sing these beautiful carols about the night our Savior was born in a little town called Bethlehem might just be my most favorite memory yet. After carols, the church burst to light with four large Christmas trees and our priest processed up the aisle with a large baby Jesus cupped in his hands. He reverently carried him to the front of the church and gently placed him in the creche beneath the Mary altar. Then, we had Midnight Mass.
When your ears are waiting so many days to hear those beautiful carols, and your eyes are waiting so long to see those twinkling lights, and your heart is waiting so impatiently to hear those good tidings of great joy... then when Christmas day comes, it's glorious to behold. The feast is good when you've first had the fast.
After Communion there is usually always a request on my lips.... But not tonight. This night I simply said thank you. That's all. Nothing more. Just my heartfelt thanks to you, Jesus.
When we came home from Mass at 2:00 in the morning, the children found the tree was as full as our hearts. They scurried off to bed so the morning would come quickly, but Oliver lingered. He always does. He needs extra time, extra attention, extra affection. Together we put baby Jesus in the manger scene, laying him softly on the bed of hay we had prepared for Him all during Advent. Every good deed done in our house was awarded with a piece of straw that was added to the manger, and I'm proud to say that baby Jesus had a good bed of hay to rest in at our house this year. We sang a quiet happy birthday to Jesus, just the two of us. Then I tucked him into bed.
I lingered, too. I looked at the twinkling lights and I saw that it was good. I have created something beautiful. A pretty picture of Christmas, lovingly wrapped up in shiny paper for happy, expectant children. It's not perfect, it's not heaven - far from it - but it is a sweet little taste.
Anja got a stencil set, a nerf crossbow, and the dollhouse she wanted which she was more than happy to share with her little brother. Oliver got his construction dress up outfit, his castle, and the Mega nerf gun he wanted. Elijah got a stack of books, space LEGOs, and a microscope. Little Isabelle got books and blocks and balls and a shape sorter.
How do we open presents in our house? Not in a mad frenzy. The kids take turns, one at a time, and they watch each other. It took a good hour and a half before all the gifts were opened.
Then I set to task filling our bellies. We made waffles and eggs and lots of bacon.
After the kids had opened their gifts and were busy with their new things, Court and I opened our gifts.
I have been out of coffee for over a week. I have been wanting coffee, and I have been wanting to order from Mystic Monk. I didn't breath a word of any of this to anyone, but wouldn't you know it that the first gift I opened from a dear friend was a package of Mystic Monk coffee. I could smell it through the paper. I wanted so badly to wake up on Christmas morning and open a package of coffee, and I actually did. It's the little things.
There was a box of tea, too.
My dear husband bought me everything I wanted. Fuzzy slippers, the exact pair I wanted in the right size. And he got me an audio recording I've really been wanting: Ralph Martin's talk on St. Catherine of Sienna. He also threw in a book, a holy card, and a medal for good measure. Because he is wonderful.
Books to read, talks to listen to, coffee and tea to taste, and the coziest slippers to dig my toes into... how could this day get any better?
Oh, but it did.
My dear, dear friend found this gem and I don't know how or where. It is a very old hand-embroidered cloth depicting Our Lady of Fatima.
Isn't it gorgeous? She gave me a book, Fatima Handbook, with it.
She also gave me a 1938 copy of Christ and the Fine Arts. It is an anthology of the life of Christ as He is portrayed by the four major fine arts - pictures, poetry, music and stories. Such a treasure. I have been reading the poems and swooning. It will be a great teaching tool as well. I am now bugging my friend via texts asking when I can come over and thank her in person because this kind of thoughtfulness deserves a hug.
After the gifts were opened and we were done pouring over our new treasures, we threw some clothes on and scrubbed faces and wrangled the kids into the car. That's right, this Christmas I spent zero time in the kitchen because our Christmas dinner was cooked and served to us on beautiful gold-trimmed plates by delightful friends. We shared wine and laughter and they sent us home with heaping plates of leftovers so I don't even have cook the next day either. Now that's a superb Christmas gift ... and you know, the company wasn't bad either. The value of God's gift of these marvelous friends is not overlooked by us: we are so grateful. They add an element of warmth & joy to our holiday that is missed when we live so far from family.
These aren't days to acquire more material goods in a frenzy. These are days to give and love and serve. There is a place in every human heart that can't be filled with stuff. Now is the time to idle for a few minutes in front of the manger scene. Sip it in slowly, don't guzzle. The first Christmas, which was planned by God Himself, involved a difficult journey, a rejection, a poorness. We can't out-do him with our trimmed trees, twinkling lights, glazed cookies, and ornate dishes. The best Christmas is the humble one.
Now that I've had my Advent of preparing my heart and opening it wide for Christ to be born, I am filled with His love and only too eager to share it with others. I'm sure there is a gap or two somewhere God wants me to fill.
Comments
Post a Comment