Stopping by woods....

I got a pointed (read: slightly testy) email from a friend this morning concerned (read: moaning) about my lack of blogging as of late.

I love this friend (read: she was right), so rather than resentfully stay away from my computer for yet another week (read: act like a child), and because I have really missed writing, I thought I would update and defend all in one fell swoop. Two birds.

So, why have I been away from words?

Paul says it's been 35 days since he's seen me stop moving. I think he might be correct on that.

We had thanksgiving, which I half-chronicled here, but got so busy didn't even give a final report, and as soon as the dishes were washed from Thanksgiving (which did take approximately 4 days), we began Christmasing in earnest.

I love feasting, holidaying, festiving, cooking, loving, preparing, but I believe I've over-Christmased this year. If that's possible. Can one over-celebrate the birth of Christ?

We made advent chains.
We had a disastrous christmas tree decorating - because - well - I wasn't involved.

We made lists - of gifts to give and gifts we'd be delighted to receive.
We made pickles.
We even made homemade 'real gifts' for people this year.
We shopped. Mostly on Amazon. Amazon is amazing. See that word play there?
We made gingerbread houses.

With friends.
We took Christmas card photos.
Some resulted in pain
But most resulted in laughter.

We ordered Christmas cards. We learned not to cuss when they came in late.
We addressed Christmas cards. Or 80 percent of them...
We reminisced about Christmases past.

We had dinners.
We laughed at my mother, who got tired and funny, and topped her tree with fake hair.

We went to dinners.
We even had lunches and breakfasts.
We had the end of a school semester - and all with which that comes - exams for Paul, projects for Paul, tutoring for Paul, school programs for Ada Brooks, Eason and me, and on and on and on.
We bestowed gifts.

We opened gifts,and for them, were very thankful.

We had a church christmas party.
We had play dates.
We sang songs. Lots of them.

We picked folks up at the airport.
We celebrated engagements from afar.
We had a children's church christmas program and party.

Ada Brooks narrated her school play.
Eason was Joseph in his.

Which seemed like the sweetest, most innocent moment ever.

Until he had an affair with the Angel, ignoring Mary and Baby Jesus.

Collins sat by the wayside and was overwhelmed by it all.
We went and saw a singing tree. Had chili first.

And a Bethlehem tree.

And we built a tree house. By we, I mean, Paul and his support team of awesome peopleness.

And we worshipped.
And we museumed - boy did we museum.

We had old friends for a new years eve celebration. 5 courses for 14 people.

We weddinged my dad and his new bride, Carrie, who is a doll.
For which I made open faced tomato sandwiches, the best thing ever.


Can you tell turning nouns into verbs is my theme of the morning? Christmasing? Museuming? Weddinging?

And now, the 12 days of Christmas are coming to an end, and we are going to burn the Christmas tree in a blaze of glory.

And sleep. For a long time.

There is nothing on my calendar for 5 of the next 11 days. Nothing. No nothing. This is a record, and I've never been so thrilled.

But, it is the good kind. The kind of exhaustion that makes you know you're doing alright. Anyone as tired as I am has accomplished something over the last month. Right?

Giving your family a sense of place is a constant work. You cannot up and create it one day, or even one year. My job, speaking relative to my family and my community, is to create a sense of place - a sense of belonging - a sense of grace.
God grants us the gifts with which to do this, but we must do it. We cannot sit around being thankful for good food, and not preparing and eating it together. We cannot love music and not sing - and listen to others sing. We cannot be in awe at our children and not play with them. We cannot say we're excited about the birth of Christ and then not lavish gifts upon one another in His name.
We cannot speak with our lips and not do with our time.

To be part of the great feast, the great redemption that God has for us, we must feast and redeem.

We cannot talk about the gospel and not do the gospel. It shan't work. Not only shan't it work, but we made promises. Baptismal promises. In my case, confirmational promises. I promised, with God's help, to do what the Gospel requires.

So, I'm exhausted. But the sense of place around here feels a bit more cemented. We're getting there.

We have promises - big promises - to keep. And that means miles to go before we sleep.

[Though, over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to nap a lot.]