Thursday, December 26, 2013

Sometimes....

It was Saturday. The mister was at work before dawn. I had planned to sleep in, but I woke up early. I filled  my five-cup coffee pot with water from the tap and the Christmas blend I had left over from 2012. The weather reports had been predicting a warming trend. I opened the front door. The sun was brightly shining and the fresh air was clean and crisp. I breathed it in deep. The lone glitter wreath sparkled where it was carelessly hung on the door. It was the only festive item I had out, and it happened by default as I had found it while rearranging the dining area.



Sometimes you don't see the stagnant until you touch the fresh anew.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and went outside. It was a quiet morning. The skies were bright blue with a few scattered clouds. I sat in silence on an old, weathered bench in the front yard. I closed my eyes as the heat of the sun kissed my face and warmth of the Son touched my soul. Then the sun hid behind some passing clouds, and the breeze turned instantly cool.


And sometimes you don't realize what was hidden until it is found again.

For most people, Christmas is just one day; Christmastide (the Twelve Days of Christmas) is not observed. I think most people spend December 26 trying to clean up Christmas and subsequently fill the recycling bin with discarded wrapping paper. This year, I am anxious to slowly unwrap it. To delve deeper. It's a real page-turner, you know. So, I spent some time reading about Saint Stephen {today is his feast day}. He was the first Christian martyr. He was a deacon who served faithfully. He called the Sanhedrin out on their crap: "And you continue, so bullheaded! Calluses on your hearts..." from Acts 7. And it's meant for me, too.



Sometimes grace, the kind that sent a babe here for the cross, hits you hard and busts open the stagnant places in your heart. And you realize the One was not hidden after all.

{And this post feels unfinished, yet I have nothing else to say. As I sit here, quietly listening to Christmas hymns, I somehow think it is exactly how it's meant to be}

Happy Christmastide. xo. Jadie


Saturday, December 21, 2013

Christmas {deconstructed}

This Christmas has wrecked me. The kind of wrecking that hits hard and forever changes you. I have been so blissful, so content. Early in the Advent season, joy filled my days with family and friends and laughter as cherished memories were forged. Then it happened, interspersed with the baking, the Christmas tea, the caroling, and all of the festivities, came the grief.

The grief came when a sweet friend's father passed away, and I grieved for all of those in mourning.

The grief came when I read about a precious baby girl in Haiti who died of pneumonia, and I grieved for all of the mothers who lose their babies to preventable diseases and treatable illnesses.

The grief came when I saw the tag hanging on the cheap, artificial tree inside the Coco's from a boy, age 7, who asked for socks and a coat before a toy, and I grieved for all the children who are cold.

The grief came when I received an email from a friend who has a heart for (and has served) Ojos Negros and the pastor who serves this poverty-stricken community, where a four year old girl was found in charge of her two younger siblings, without food, while their mother was away at work, and I grieved for those without food and care.

And the culminating meltdown happened while I was sitting in the car in the Target parking lot. Silent tears that ran hot down my cheeks turned into shoulder-shaking sobs. Our tight budget wouldn't allow us to purchase much for extended family and friends, and I didn't want to get just whatever. So, I didn't.

And there is nothing wrong with giving gifts, but this year, for me, I heeded the nudge to give differently. After all, my dad doesn't need another plaid flannel, and my mom doesn't need any more tchotchkes. I decided to use my Christmas budget, as small as it was, to give. To give to different charities that are making a real difference.

I came across this quote by Mother Teresa this week: "It is Christmas every time you let God love others through you. Yes, it is Christmas every time you smile at your brother and offer him your hand."

And this is why the weary world rejoices.

{My friend, Dave, is traveling to Ojos Negros sometime in the first half of January. For approximately $10, a care package of beans, rice, masa, sugar, oil, and coffee can be assembled and distributed to help combat hunger this winter. Want to give a small gift that will make a big difference? Ask me for more info/contact information.}

Merry Christmas. xo.