The story of Christmas past

"Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself." from a paraphrase of Luke 2 in The Message

Some of the things I treasure from my Christmas --

My little girl asking over and over again to be lifted to see the lovely German Christmas pyramid in a shoppe window we often pass to look at "her little Lord Jesus."

How she called the twinkle lights in the neighbors' yards "honeybugs".

The simple little Christmas eve service at my church decorated with discarded strands of Christmas lights and filled with the sounds of two friends making lovely music.

Making glistening lemon sandwich cookies with Audrey for our friends.

A mid-December feast filled with warmth and good conversation with people who have grown very dear to me.

Wrapping and cleaning late into the night, night after night, with my husband

Now she is three

Three years ago at this time, I was settling into a pancake breakfast at the hospital, and this sweet little girl, just three hours old, was putting smiles on all the faces that saw her. Today she is a big girl who wanted me to hide her birthday presents and give her clues so that she could find them. And she still puts smiles on our faces. Happy birthday, Audrey.

Happy Thanksgiving

So much to say thank you for: a constant and patient husband, a little daughter, a naughty but dear cat, a merciful God, truth-speaking friends, some very good books, some very beautiful pictures....

I made this roasted pumpkin fondue from the November 2008 issue of Gourmet for Halloween, but if I were preparing a Thanksgiving feast, I would start with this. And perhaps end there. Oh, well, there would be my mom's pumpkin pie, too. Because it is the very best dessert I have ever had.

Instead, I am going to feast with my family - my parents, my aunties and their families, and my Granddaddy. Being together with people who are so dear to me.

Happy Thanksgiving, to those of you who read along.

All other ground is sinking sand

This evening I learned that something I particularly love is going away. A gift given to me a time of emptiness. I knew I treasured it, but I was suprised when my eyes welled with tears. Certainty is not promised us. Water and rest on a journey are to be enjoyed and then memories of them packed up as reminders of provision. We go on. Another place of plenty will be given again when we need it. We go on without the certainty in peace because we trust. Not in the provision, but in the provider. So, I travel on with a remembrance of sustanance to tuck away in my heart. Knowing I will have enough.

Conspiring for a new sort of Christmas

I saw this today as I was thinking about how to shape our family's Christmas celebration.



A celebration that begins with worship.
A celebration that is relational.
A celebration that pours out life rather than stifles and snuffs out.
God sent Jesus that we might have life and have it abundantly.

In the coming weeks, I will share as we conspire to celebrate with worship, presence, and giving.

"It begins with worship..."

Who among the gods is like you, O LORD ? Who is like you— majestic in holiness, awesome in glory, working wonders? ... In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed. In your strength you will guide them to your holy dwelling. Exodus 15:11 and 13 (NIV)

Something simple and lovely to look at

Two of my favorite artists, Camilla Engman and Elisabeth Dunker, have formed Studio Violet. This photo is from their website. I love the simplicity of their aesthetics and the magic of what they create together. You can see more of their work at http://www.studioviolet.se/. It is a nice spot to take a visual vacation during these chaotic times.

Autumn reading

I never thought about the challenges of teaching seasons to a preschooler in the San Francisco Bay Area. Even though it is October, the air is still warm. Snow never falls. And in summer, you need a sweater to protect you from the chilly evenings. You have to use your imagination to conjure up the impressive colors of changing leaves or the frosty wonderlands of winter. Now, I am not complaining. I would not exchange the near perfection of my microclimate for real life teaching examples in my own neighborhood. It is okay that we will have to drive up to Tahoe to see snow and travel back East to show her the display of autumn color which I remember. In the meantime, though, we are reading about seasons. According to Audrey, it is fall time and the leaves are fallin'. And even though they are crunchy and brown, we jumped through them on our way to the library to get some books that show us how fall is supposed to look.

• Lois Lenski, Now It's Fall
• Tasha Tudor, Pumpkin Moonshine
• Cynthia Rylant, In November
• Margaret Wise Brown, The Little Scarecrow Boy
• Judith Rawlinson, Fletcher and the Falling Leaves
• Anne Rockwell, Apples and Pumpkins
• Nancy Elizabeth Wallace, Apples, Apples, Apples

And on seasons, in general

• Alice and Martin Provensen, The Year at Maple Hill Farm
• Tasha Tudor, Around the Year
• Brian Wildsmith, Animal Seasons
• Tasha Tudor, Five Senses
• Charlotte Zolotow, Over and Over

And a true sign fall is here in Northern California, it looks like rain. We are waiting anxiously for it.

Hope blows in

In our family, we have a tradition of going to the beach on the third weekend of September. It started rather haphazardly when we scheduled with a photographer to have family photographs taken at the beach when our daughter was nine months old. It turned out to be such a happy day, that we repeated it last year. Everyone was very happy for this year's 'so long, summer' beach day. Suddenly, my husband had to work, and the day was cancelled.

But, you don't promise a beach day lightly to a little girl who is almost three and has a memory like an elephant. So in response to her crestfallen expression when I told her that we weren't going, I packed up our car for the beach anyway. She was 'so excited', but it felt hollow to me.

We sat on the beach surrounded by fog, steep clffs, and ice-cold ocean. We ate our lunch of cheese and apples. We even had chocolate. But, I felt so empty.

Then I remembered a day a long time ago. I was a child on vacation with my parents and brother. We passed through Monterey , California, getting out of our car at this chilly, dark, stony beach. We lived in a blue-collar suburb of Philadelphia. But, I decided that day that when I grew up, I was going find home near this foggy, grey, sea-breezed place. I was going to sip a hot drink, wrap myself in a warm sweater, and read good books there. The cozy melancholy drew me.

Sitting on the beach this late September, watching my little girl play, I realized for the first time: I am here. I can go any day to the grey, sea-breezed ocean cliffs. And just then, the fog started to blow off the water, and the sun warmed us.

I have been sad lately. There is suffering and brokenness about. And things are not right. And I struggle as I did on this day to find deep contentment.

Once in awhile, though, the fog blows off, and sun peeks in. Yes, the heavy grey will roll back in tomorrow, but it blows away enough each day for me to see that the hand of God is present.

The breezes of the ocean seem to be whispering the words of Job: "No plan of yours can be thwarted...Surely, I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know...My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have see you."

I don't think as a child, I knew what I was asking for. But, God has given me a gloomy, rocky place I do not pretend to understand, made beautiful by trust in things too wonderful for me to know. And, in the melacholy, my deepest longings are being satisfied through glimpses of almighty glory that warm me like the sun.

Her name was Lola

And yes, she is a showgirl.

Audrey has an imaginary friend named Lola. She moved in during the first weeks of July. She just appeared one day, announcing to Audrey she needed some food at dinner time, and "some pink milk, please." She does bear a resemblance to the character of the same name from the BBC program Charlie and Lola.

She goes with us regularly to the store, prefering to ride in the cart, rather than walk, since, of course, "she is very small." She keeps Audrey up at night from time to time with her giggling. And, once we left her at the farmer's market. Fortunately, the vegetable man took care of her for us. Then, there was the scare when she got lost in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Mostly, though, she just plays. She joins Audrey for living room picnics and swims in the bath.

I rather like Lola, and I hope she stays with us for some time to come. She certainly relieves my anxieties about my choice to let Audrey watch a bit of television. Even if she does seem to cause a bit of trouble now and then, she makes for a good playmate.

Vacationing in my dreams

We just returned from a lovely vacation to my in-law's farm in Illinois. It has been very hard to return home. I miss being in the middle of nowhere with only playing and reading and daydreaming filling my to do list. In my dreams, I am still there breathing in the fresh, sticky air filled with butterflies by day and fireflies at night.

A book project

ASSEMBLY a collaborative book project from Maine artist Karen Gelardi has captured my imagination. Of course, I love her drawings and the fact that this installation will be comprised of books, but I am intrigued by her involvement of collectors as collaborators and curators and her goal of sustainable funding for installation art. You can purchase a book that will be part of the artwork, and it will be shipped to you following the installation. More information can be found at www.karengelardi.com. [Photograph is from the artist's website.]

A curse is lifted

Today, I realized that I can read.

This warm Sunday afternoon, I found myself in bed with a particularly interesting text on the psychological meanings of picture books, and I thought excitedly to myself, "I am reading a book on the psychological meaning of picture books. How can this be?"

I learned to read sometime during the first grade. I hardly remember a time in my life that was not shaped by books. I even went to graduate school to study them. I was always reading something and surrounded by stacks of volumes just waiting for me. But one rainy December day, my books all fell shut and seemed to lock me out.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, a baby girl was born. Though she filled her home with joy and beauty, a powerful curse accompanied her. Grown-ups could not finish their books no matter how hard they tried. Countless hours were spent pouring over picture books with the tiny girl. She took her mommy on many happy literary adventures with bunnies and owls. Yet, as the mommy openned books written just for her, her eyes grew very heavy, and she fell fast asleep. As the little girl grew, her liveliness and laughter made her mommy so glad, but still, she could not open the books she longed to read.

Then, suddenly, the good fairies of imaginary friends and pretend play came to their little home and lifted the spell on the household. The little girl's mommy could read books meant just for her. They were glad, indeed.

Mei Mei hair

Audrey's friend Mei Mei often wears her hair in ponytails. Her head is covered with lovely, thick, dark hair, and she has a sweet mother who is interested in styling it. I confess to my incompentence and lack of enthusiasm with regard to hair. (I am willing to invest in good cut, but not daily updos.) Audrey, however, has convinced me to try out Mei Mei hair on several occasions. Apparently, it is all the rage among the toddler set. It must be painful because she has to hold her bunny's hand to endure it. (Again, I am not good at hair.) It must be worth the suffering, though, because she is so pleased with the result. Yesterday, she insisted that I photograph her hairstyle so that she can show Mei Mei.

A steadfast heart

"My heart is firmly fixed, O God, my heart is fixed;
I will sing and make melody."

from Psalm 57 in The Book of Common Prayer according to the use of The Episcopal Church

Goodbye, Happy Hollow

One of our favorite little haunts, Happy Hollow, is closing today for renovations. Audrey and I will miss the happy times we had here. We are so excited to see what it becomes when it reopens next September.

Marvelous and strange

Life has been a bit strange lately. And I am beginning to understand that it is always marvelous.