A little less than a month from now will be the day after Christmas. It’s hard to believe, but the rush will be behind us and the tinsel, paper, and garlands along with this year’s cherished memories stored away. But as we approach this holiday season, filled with the laughter of family and friends, gift giving, and loads of good food, we can also steal away from the hustle and bustle when we observe Advent. Continue reading
I don’t do waiting so well. Waiting for cars to move on down the road. Waiting with expectation for a phone call or response. For me, waiting on just about anything is tough. When I get an inspiration for something, that can be even worse. Leaving forethought in my dust and fueled by delusions of grandeur, not waiting on wisdom, I too often leap before the proverbial look. Sure that I can float or fly, more often than not, the wind flutters out of my sails. With my hopes and expectations fizzling to the ground, “What happened?” swirls around my head. Aagh! That’s the problem with us optimistic ones. If it seems like a good idea, it’s full steam ahead. After all, the glass is half full, never half empty. Right? Continue reading
With Christmas pushing through the door, seemingly shoving Thanksgiving aside, a small bit of anxiousness grows as I look at the still unfinished Christmas stocking for my grandson, Henry. When I last posted the picture of the woe-begotten state of affairs of my pitiful knitting project, I had actually come to a point of being a tad bit hopeful. Finishing the white trim on Santa’s hat, I left my friend—who is walking with me through this painful learning experience—with a quickness of step, and a lightness of heart, ready to jump in, sure, that this time, nothing could stop me.
I know how to knit.
I know how to pearl.
And more importantly, I know how to tink.*
What more could anyone want?
“You’re ready to start the black,” was emblazoned in my head and heart as I left Joan’s house that day. Sitting down later that night with knitting in hand, I grabbed the black yarn, knitting, knitting, knitting, pearling, pearling, pearling, then knitting again three rows back and forth. Looking at the stocking, because I was proud as punch—and the stitches did look nice—I noticed for the first time that something was terribly amiss. How could you possibly see black eyes in the middle of the black yarn? Bursting into laughter that was so hard I couldn’t speak, my nose running and my face covered in tears, I sent Joan this text: Continue reading
Well. Here we are again. Summer is gone and with each falling leaf gently dancing to the ground, the grey, chill days of winter move closer. Already, the rush of Christmas is in the background, with the anticipation of Thanksgiving just ahead. And while we are grateful and look forward to the joy this time of year brings, “Weren’t we here just yesterday?” moves in whispers around us—a startling reminder that our lives are fleeting and truly, just a breath. (See Psalm 39:5.) Continue reading