From Gratitude to Generosity

Now would seem like the most appropriate holiday to show you my completed art project. This is the wall in our dining room. Our family tree. Finally, this room is beginng to become uniquely ours as in our last.

I'm grateful for the each breath I take and the gift of each day I wake. I'm grateful for my husband who has become my second breath. I could not exist as the woman I am today without him. I'm grateful for my intelligent and energetic children who daily amaze and inspire me. I'm grateful for my sisters who will always know me better than anyone else (and for those women who've become like sisters to me and will spend the rest of their lives getting to know me despite myself). I'm grateful for my family. I'm grateful for a warm home and the great joy of cooking tasty food. I'm grateful to live in a free country where I can work, live, and play for the benefit of my family.

But gratitude is not enough. These amazing gifts require more from me. Not only am I to accept them grateful, but I must nurture them warmly and responsibly, I must share them with love, charity, and justice, and I must seek to return them to God abundantly.

"What return shall I make for all the good the LORD has done for me?" Psalm 116:12

Fall: My Season

I love the fall. There is nothing quite like the feeling of walking out of the house and smelling the decay of leaves and the crisp fall air. I love the slight bite in the wind and the gently warmth I feel when I enter an establishment. I love bundling up and taking the kids for a walk.

For many, fall signifies a time of death and darkness. While I mourn the end of Saturday morning market with the final ritual canning and a savory butternut squash soup, I embrace the peace and life I find in the shortening days of autumn.

There is a slowing of life in the enveloping darkness of the late days of fall. I identify with a mama bear as my instinct to hibernate kicks in. I become more efficient and less concerned with the stress of the world. My priorities naturally shift to a greater focus on my family and for a short period of time each year society supports my priorities with sappy commercials about family holidays and especially patient church-goers.

John Ross was born at the end of November. Nothing more life-giving than that. I can't eat Thanksgiving dinner without remembering those last precious (and impatient) hours that my son was still inside me.

And on the tail of the fall season is Advent. The anticipation of the impending arrival of the Savior is certainly known to this mama. This year however, it is the peace and hush that I hope to embrace.

Yes, my children are 2 and 7 months.

Yes, I am a working mama.

Yes, I hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas is out of town this year.

I figure, if Mary can manage to give birth to Jesus in a cave and invite the shepherds in to view the little man a few hours later, I can find a few moments of peace each night to be quiet and remember God's provision. Perhaps, by Christmas, I will be ready to welcome the Savior into my heart and not just my home.

I've Never Been So Thankful for Lunch!

My son invited me to lunch the other day. This may not seem significant at first glance, but he's 2.

I sat him down for lunch and turned to go to the kitchen to do my usual chores while he ate. As I stepped across the threshold between the two rooms, I heard an insistent “Aye! Aye!” and turned around to see him repeatedly pointing his finger to the table and saying “Seat! Seat!” He was clearly inviting me to join him for our meal. He had classified meal time as family time. He had internalized our pattern and simply made it a part of himself. He didn’t have to think about it, he just acted as the Spirit prompted him.

At this time of year, between family and holidays, it is easy to get caught up in the necessity of doing. We must do the shopping, do the cooking, and do the driving. Then we must do the working to pay for the shopping and the cooking and the driving. Often, in all of our doing, we forget to be present in the moment and give thanks for the gift of ourselves.

The life of a steward begins when you realize that all you have and more importantly, all you are, is a gift. John Ross’ invitation was to more than just lunch. He invited me to simply be that which God has made me. Through my 2-year-old, Jesus called me out of my doing and invited me to sit at His feet as a mother, a wife, and a beautiful daughter of God.