Are you ready for the big day?
I’m not either, but I’ve found over the years whether I’m ready or not, it still comes, and that’s a good thing.
I’ve given up on making every cookie, every bar, here’s a link to my gluten and dairy free lemon squares. Instead, I’ve learned, after four kids and over twenty years of marriage, to do only what I truly enjoy during this season of light. We usually make sugar cookies–the second recipe on the Gluten Free Mom’s blog–and sometimes, I buy the icing, and other years, Diva makes it. Either way is a-okay.
Advent musts for me are:
Attending my church which challenges and soothes my soul; and
Listening to carols, Advent ones mostly, all full of longing for the Christ Child and the Messiah who will come again. My favorites are: People Look East, O Come, O Come Emmanuel–which I’ve written of before, Lo, How a Rose ‘Er Blooming–maybe because it talks of a rose which blooms in “cold, midwinter.” I also love The Angel Gabriel Came. The last two are about the amazing fact that a Hebrew girl said yes to God when an angel gave her the startling news she would bear a son. I’m always amused by the story of the Annunciation–the moment when the Angel Gabriel told Mary she was blessed and so favored–because Mary is so young and brave and all about practicalities.
Instead of freaking like I would have at fifteen if told such, Mary is merely somewhat disturbed and asks the angel how this can be, “Since I have not known man.”
Now, there is a practical girl anyone would be proud to call mother, even the Son of God.
If you’re still reading these musings, and I haven’t completely lost you, I have a funny story to tell.
Last night, I got out the manger scenes. We have two. I got everything ready, the beautiful, dark, green velvet and the sheer fabric we place on the piano. The rusty stars were placed on the sofa table in preparation for the other set. The two nativities were in the same box so it was only as I placed the figures of the ceramic nativity, that I stood there befuddled. I turned to my youngest daughter, the one we call Bear, who is twelve and said,
“Two of the wise men are missing.”
In my twenties, I would have torn apart the house looking for those wise men, and made my family miserable in the process. Instead, this time I shrugged and said,
“I guess they got lost on the road.”
Without missing a beat, Bear said, “Well, they have until Epiphany to find their way.”
I had to laugh. Let’s hope those two wise men find their way to the Christ Child because if they don’t, I can’t help them. Yes, I shop for gifts and put up the tree, but I also try to hold in my heart that young girl who said yes. In awe of her answer, I can’t be stressed about Christmas anymore. Whether the wise men find their way to the piano makes no difference really. The true wise men did. May we all take joy in the little things and find our way this Christmas too.