Archive for the ‘Holidays’ Category
Our Jesse Tree
We gather sticks from the fallen tree. One girl in pajamas and slippers and coat runs back inside. The boy breaks a branch. The littlest girl holds her prized stick high. The parade goes indoors to find a pottery vase.
We rummage around in boxes, then return to the cold outdoors to dig in the dirt. Our dying stems need to be supported or else they flop and spin.
The sap still tries to run up these green boughs. The flow doesn’t allow a clean break. The sticks tear apart. The shreds of bark are underneath the dirt now. They don’t show, but the brittle end begins.
Life cannot return to these in the jar, but maybe what hangs from the branches will bring life to us.
Printed paper cut and pricked to hang from dying boughs. Ink blotted and colored to remind us of the promise in a story begun ages ago…
And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow from out of his roots: And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord. (Isaiah 11:1-2)
(Ornaments from A Glorious Coming)
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I promised pictures of our homestead. I haven’t forgotten. My computer didn’t survive our move, so Dylan has been working to restore my hard drive.
In Case You’re Looking for Thanksgiving Ideas…
I’ve been in denial about winter holidays. I’m still reeling from skipping a whole season. It was fall when I left Texas. It’s winter here. Seriously. With cold and snow and everything. I even bought an ice scraper. I’d completely forgotten about such a necessity.
My sister offered to host Thanksgiving, so I don’t have to get the pile of paint cans out of the kitchen or prepare a meal that requires actual planning and baking. I do, however, like to take a few moments to teach my children why we celebrate.
So when I saw Frazzled LaShawn post about her plans on Twitter, I begged her to share the links. I know you are more prepared than me, but if you want to add a little something to your well-planned days here are two sites to explore and one craft to make:
- The First Thanksgiving- multi-media stories from Scholastic.com
- You are the Historian- investigate the first Thanksgiving
- Glowbird- only requires a few supplies
And here are a couple things to print from my bookmarks:
- 1st Thanksgiving Book- color, cut, and staple or cut, staple, and color
- Thanks and Giving Tree- capture gratitude on leaves
Because Thanksgiving is still a couple days away, right?
P.S. I did find an advent book. I purchased A Glorious Coming by Ann Voskamp. We will finally make a Jesse Tree this year!
One Birthday Tradition
I chose one thing. One birthday tradition we all enjoy. Today it pulls me from bed before the sun. Usually I create at night after the children plod to their beds, but last night I fell asleep in the arms of my husband. He came home just in time. His vow true.
Today a beautiful little girl turns six, so I measure and stir and pour in the quiet to make a cake chosen weeks ago.
Sunshine flipped through a well-worn magazine Grandma found at a yard sale, a whole book of cakes cut from simple shapes. The page with an artist palette was marked not only in the book, but in my memory. I had the same cake as a little girl!
Baked butter and sugar fill my nostrils before cake falls out of the pan to cool. Boxes piled high in every room and the moving truck comes tomorrow, but here in this moment I pause from the busyness to create.
This one expectation is of my own making and I am happy to fulfill it. Packing will wait.
It doesn’t take twenty-one traditions to make a birthday or a holiday special. Those lists tend to grow each year.
One homemade cake will be all the decoration and party we need. It will bring the smiles, imprint a memory, and connect our family for generations.
What is your favorite way to celebrate birthdays? Are you simplifying holiday to do lists this year?
Love Overcame Death
Love overcame death! My mind reels at the idea. I cannot recover. The invisible, internal churning grasps for the truth of the unseen. If angel wings brush the heavens, do they create light on this floating globe?
Astonished women caught a glimpse at a tomb centuries ago. Expecting death and decay, they found hope. Words came through the dazzling light,
Why do you seek the living One among the dead? He is not here, but He has risen. (Luke 24: 6)
Can you imagine? How long did it take for the words to settle into their souls? Terror to ecstatic joy in a sentence. The ladies pulled themselves away and carried the message to Jesus’ beloved friends. The men did not believe the nonsense.
But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen wrappings only; and he went away to his home, marveling at what had happened. (Luke 24: 12)
Peter. The one who had denied. The one who caught the gaze of Jesus as a rooster’s crow pierced his heart. He ran. I imagine he didn’t look back. His hope was tangled up with those burial clothes. Would Jesus forgive him? Would love be more powerful than death? Peter marveled at the answer.
I still marvel. And the tomb is still empty.
I hope your Resurrection Day was full of hope and wonder.
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We are preparing for a visit from Dylan’s mother, so I asked a few bloggers to fill in for me for the next two weeks. I’m constantly amazed by the ladies who encourage through their keyboards. I look forward to sharing their posts with you.
I will write as time permits. Mom hasn’t been here in four years, so we have lots of memory-making planned.
Tasting the Bitter Herbs
She stands tall lifting her red plastic cup high overhead. Little eyes sparkle and she tries to follow the words,
Blessed are you, O Lord our God, King of the universe…
She sips the juice and plops down on her pillow. Table spread before her. Children all around gathered for a normal Wednesday evening church service. Instead led to tables unfolded, flat on the floor. Candles glimmer and children squirm, chatter, and wonder.
Bites of parsley remind. The next bite is maror, the bitter herbs. I warn her it is hot. It is the tiniest amount, but she sobs and spits it out. The taste of slavery. The taste of sin. Unpalatable. Full of misery.
This Passover feast was God’s idea. Families recline at table nourishing souls with food. So wise and yet the symbols blur, overshadowed by one taste burned upon our tongues. The juice washes it away. Sweet purple drops of sap squeezed into a challis and poured.
We all want to drink from that cup, the special cup set aside for Elijah. We do, because one greater than Elijah is here. The communion cup poured out and filled again. Hands of all sizes hold their cups close the the mouth of the clay. The leader gives to all who ask. The words etched by an artisan years ago now wet with drops spilling over the side.
This is my blood shed for you.
Words I don’t understand. Words with promise. Words that take me back to the cross I so easily abandon.
It hurts. Surrounded by hatred and violence.
It’s messy. Smeared with flesh and blood.
I cringe remembering. The god-man groaning in agony as his most precious love turned away.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mathew 27: 46)
Alone for the first time in eternity yet surrounded by the human race. Flesh ripped apart. Soul crushed. The consequences of rebellion, my rebellion. I don’t see my sin the same way. I don’t understand how far removed from creation I am.
The one who was there at the beginning knows. He tasted the sponge sopped with vinegar when he longed for the refreshing dew of the garden. He asked us to remember. He promised not to forget. And while he waits for us to love like he did, he prepares another feast. One without any tears.
Tags: Good Friday, Passover
