Christmas musings and a book!

         Our family held our 28th wind-up toy race on Christmas morning, an annual tradition since our first married Christmas in 1984.  Santa brings each person a windup toy and places it carefully at the top of their stocking.  Before the presents are unwrapped, we line up at the kitchen door, wind up our racers, and place them on the starting line.  This year, with both daughters, a son-in-law and a boyfriend at home, the starting line was a little crowded with six entrants in the race.   
         The wind-up toy that gets to the kitchen island first (or just goes the farthest before puttering out) wins.  You never know what Santa has brought you.  Some of the toys go in circles, others do back flips.  Some crawl forward slowly - but in a straight line.   This year, Alison gets bragging rights for a year with her winning panda on a tricycle - who didn't make it all the way to the finish but went farther than anyone else.  
         And Christmas morning begins with cheering and laughter.  I can't think of a better way to start the day.

AF

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The Sign of the Cross

       On one of my meditative walks Dec. 23, I tried to clear my mind of all the high-voltage pressures of the season and reflect on my chosen word of peace. I also was here to pray for discernment and a sense of the presence of God in making an important decision in my life for the New Year.

       I felt numb. Where was the Prince of Peace in this time of frenzied activity? Where was his message to me in what path to take? As I rounded the bend, I stopped dead in my tracks. The rising sun made the sign of the cross on the pathway. A step to one side or the other and the cross disappeared. A sense of blessing descended. The weight of the season lifted. I felt a settling of my heart – and the message that we find what we seek but it may take stepping off the familiar path.

DB

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      Recently, a lifelong dream came true for me. I opened the cover of a book - a real, honest-to-God book - and saw my name on the table of contents page. What a gift! Now I feel like an author! Along with twenty-one other women, I can call The Modern Magnificat mine. The title is perfectly chosen, I believe. When Mary speaks the poem of praise known as the Magnificat early in the book of Luke, she is still in awe of the way God is at work in her life and the role she gets to play in the redemption of the world. In The Modern Magnificat, I get the chance to tell my own story of responding to the call of God, as do the authors of the other chapters, all of us Baptist women called to ministry. This time of year especially, this book comes as a beautiful reminder that God is always calling, always redeeming, always inviting us to join in that work. I invite you to read the stories in The Modern Magnificat: Women Responding to the Call of God, and I pray that they will inspire you to be always responding to God as well.

SS

And it's 2012 already!

A blessing for Elli

The first day of 2012 brought a special joy for me in my work as a hospital chaplain. Death and grief are much more common in my job, so this was a welcome change to begin the new year. Some friends of mine had come to the hospital in the waning days of 2011 expecting their first child, and after 30 hours in which her mother gained a whole new understanding of the word "labor," Elliott Virginia came into the world. She is, in a word, perfect. I started my first shift of 2012 by holding her, feeding her, and rocking her to sleep. She gave me the blessing of a tiny smile and wrapped her long fingers around my thumb. Then I got to do one of my favorite tasks as a minister. I spoke a blessing for Elli that went something like this:

Elliott Virginia, may God bless you with kindness and wisdom, creativity and strength, bravery and faith and beauty, in this new year and for many, many, many years to come. May you bring joy to God, your family, and all of us who love you, as we do our best to help you become the woman God created you to be, all the long years of your life.         Amen.

SS

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I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose.  ~Woody Allen

      I hear them laughing even though I'm in my office upstairs.  Our youngest daughter, Savannah, and her dad, Don, are laughing uproariously downstairs.  They both have the gift of loud, raucous, out of nowhere, belly laughs.  It could be something on TV.  It could be the face Savannah just made, a story, a one-liner, who knows?  The laughter blesses our house and my life as little else can do.  Laughter lights the darkness, cleanses the soul, and fills up a house.
       Savannah heads back to Furman University tomorrow for her final semester as an undergraduate.   She has been home for the holidays, working on grad school applications, sleeping late,  visiting friends and, of course, telling stories and laughing.  We will miss the laughter when she is gone.
      I turn off the light in the office and head downstairs.  I think I'll join them.

AF

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Last sunrise of 2011,  Myrtle Beach, SC

      It goes something like this.

      I'll come home and say something like, "I'm sure you all have done all your homework."

      One child will pipe up and answer that's "inconceivable!"

      And then another chimes in, "Do you even know what that word means?"

      For anyone who's a fan of the classic movie Princess Bride, no explanation is needed. Otherwise the preceding is just nonsense. What I love about ritualistic exchanges such as this is that it marks us a tribe with our secret code. It's a sign of intimacy - a moment to break from the routine or homework or whatever the issue is at hand and go off on a nonsensical tangent. That's one of my resolutions for 2012. More nonsensical tangents to thwart the over thinking, analytical side of myself that takes life too seriously.

      I told my family on our New Year's break to Myrtle Beach the story of a friend who found her Christmas marred by a contentious family member. She and others decided not to let this person's issues pull them down, so they used the word Duck anytime things got tense. Ducks just let the water roll off them and don't get pulled down by its weight. I shared this with the boys just as we were driving past Dick Pond going to Myrtle Beach. I'm not making this up. Needless to say the conversation deteriorated from there, but whenever things got tense or someone was irritable, someone would shout Duck, and we'd start snickering.

      I have my spiritual prompts that have the same effect. As I was walking the beach to see the last sunrise of 2011 and feeling a bit melancholy, a word unbidden rose above the mental chatter.

      Grace.

      More for myself. More for others.

     Just like that, the one word broke the spell of tension. I returned to the present moment with a deep breath. I opened to the new year.

     In the words of my friend, 'Happy New Year. Be the duck.'

DB

Last blog post of 2011

Bracing for the New Year

I have friends who are good for me and those who are bad.  Tuesday, I couldn’t decide which category to put Michelle Mills in. We met for a workout at the new popular BLAST900 fitness studio in Mt. Pleasant.  At the time it seemed as if it were a good idea. I had the day off, it would only be an hour and it would be a chance to work off some of the three holiday desserts I had felt compelled to try.

Hopping on the treadmill, I enjoyed a warm, fuzzy moment thinking how good it is to have friends who encourage you along life’s way. If it weren’t for her, I probably would be in bed, reading and listening to the rain. Instead I’m reading such affirmations on the wall as: Your mind is the athlete.

Bring it on, I think.

This studio does intense, interval sessions. After several sprints on the treadmill and doing walking lunges up a 27-percent incline, I looked over at her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Definitely, bad for me. Warm, fuzzy feeling is gone. I sneer at the positive affirmations on the wall. My mind obviously is no athlete.

I think of getting pizza with my kids, my reward for surviving, as we walk to get our bags and mop off our sweat.

“You want to go to Trader Joe’s and get some thinkThin bars? she asks.

Sure, why not.

What are friends for?

DB

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Hurley's First Snow

This is all new.

Something cold, white, crunchy under your paws.

Not sure what to do.

Each step must feel strange.

You pause and look to me.

I do my best to guide you, mother you,

Reassure you from the other end of the leash.

"It's okay.

Just take another step.

I won't be far."

Each time I stand on the brink of the unknown,

I need the same from God.

Guide me, mother me, reassure me.

But there is no leash connecting us.

It's not so easy to know where to look.

Still, when I take that first step,

Sometimes I think I hear a familiar whisper.

"It's okay.

Just take another step.

I won't be far."

SS

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In these in-between days,  between the first holy days of Christmas and the revelry of the New Year, I find myself reaching for grace.  So, the quilts didn’t get finished this year,  the book is still in process, the house has yet to be de-cluttered, my blog post is late.  My never ending list of projects will simply have to go on the to-do list for 2012.  In the meantime, this in-between time,  we will have visits from family, dinners with friends, a daughter still home from college, and life to enjoy.  And so for these last few minutes of 2011, I’ll put away the to-do lists, sit on the back porch and put up my feet, and simply be.

AF

Third Week of Advent - Joy

This is one image of joy I've had sitting around my house the past few days.  It's pretty indicative of what we are told this time of year.  Joy is about the right gift under the perfect Christmas tree surrounded by the happy family.  Really?  I don't think that's exactly what the Bible means by joy.  James exhorted his fellow believers, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (James 1:2 TNIV).  In times of trial, it's not brightly wrapped gifts I crave.  Even now, when my life is relatively trial-free, that isn't what I really want.  What I want is to be one of those people who can endure life's struggles with an unshakeable joy in God, not just a sappy smile.  I'm still trying to understand all that joy is about, but if it has anything to do with gifts, I know it's less about the ones wrapped under the tree than the One who was placed in a manger.

SS

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    Let a joy keep you.

Reach out your hands

And take it when it runs by...

Carl Sandburg

It’s easy to catch joy when it’s all piled up on your lap.   My nieces and nephew - a trendy 8 year old, an all-boy 5 year old and a two year old who begins everyday with the announcement “It my bir-day!”   - are visiting this week and our quiet evenings at home with the cat and the Christmas tree have been replaced by silly giggles, campfire s’mores in the backyard, and a floor full of legos and Polly Pockets.    

We toured the Charleston holiday scene - including the James Island Holiday Festival of Lights.  We had already made one drive through the light show with our three grown children.  It was a fun trip, full of memories and hilarious political and religious commentary on the light vignettes.  This week, we returned to see the lights with the nieces and nephew in tow.   “Yook! Yook!  A weindeer!”   It was pure jumping up and down delight  (well, except for the few moments of sibling disagreement and rebellion- but I’m not their mom so I was having a great time!)  

I love catching these fleeting moments of joy as they go speeding past - in the guise of a two year old who thinks everyday is her birthday and three children who manage to jump in the ocean - even in December!  What joy!

AF

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I love storms. I took this photo in St. Augustine, Fla., at dawn, just before a storm rolled in. It was a long, quiet walk, full of shifting clouds and light, a stolen moment before I resumed the drive down to Satellite Beach with my family, the destination of our Thanksgiving break.  The choice was to sleep in or to walk. The light and electric charge of the air drew me out. By the end of the walk, I walked back in soaked, but happy. In the entrance of Shay’s school, Ashley River Elementary, is a Picasso quote: “Art washes away from the soul the dust from everyday life.” I don’t always have time for a long, soaking walk, but I’ve learned every day has its offerings of joy to be gathered. Manna moments, if you will.

Sometimes, it’s the only way I get through the day.

DB