Christmas Busyness: Thursday's Reflection

I think I'll work on our Christmas cards. Nope, I should wrap the gift that needs to be taken to the post office. What I would really love to do is work on the next chapter for my book, but first there is a meeting I need to prepare for. Do I have the ingredients for cherry walnut bread? The smell of that baking would be divine, but I haven't even thought about doing any entertaining before Christmas, and here it is December 10th. 

Yes, here it is December 10th, 2015, and you would think with all the past Christmases under my belt, I would not feel quite so rushed, so scattered. You would think that by the time I entered my 60's, heck, late 60's, I would have learned to relax and to remember, quoting my husband's frequent solution, "Somehow it all gets done." 

When we were raising our family, the month between Christmas and New Year's was loaded with events--going to see Santa, hosting Sunday evening Advent suppers in our home, attending school concerts and holiday work and neighborhood parties, including our own. We squeezed a lot into a short period of time. You remember, I am sure, the late nights wrapping presents and the rushed trips to the grocery store because you were out of almond extract for the cookies you were baking. 

My body seems to remember that frenzied feeling, that need to create a "perfect" Christmas, and an alarm is ringing in my head. Do. Rush. Check the lists. Get going. Help! 15 Days and it is Christmas. 

Now, however, the pace is slower, more self-directed, and I definitely don't have to do it all. There are not nearly the number of presents to buy as there were in the past. We no longer exchange gifts with many friends, agreeing there is little we need, other than each other's friendship and companionship. Bruce and I have agreed to spend an afternoon at a good independent bookstore and buy each other a pile of books and then go out for dinner. Perfect. 

So how is it I really want to spend these days and is there anything that is preventing me from doing just that? Yes, I have presents left to buy, and yes, our Christmas cards haven't yet gone in the mail, but they are a work in progress, and they will be sent. No, I haven't done any baking yet, but this weekend looks like a good time to do that and who needs to eat all those cookies anyway? As for entertaining, well, the house will be full of family a couple different times, and how about some dates the week after Christmas. That would work. 

Now is the time, the best time, to take a breath. A deep, long breath of awareness and presence. Now is the, time to move into the living room where I can read and perhaps write in the glow of Christmas lights. Now is the time, especially since the weather is unseasonably warm, to walk the sidewalks of my beloved neighborhood. Now is the time to honor the gifts of the season, the gifts of this time of my life. 

An Invitation
What is it time for in your life? I would love to know. 

Tucked Under a Quilt

During our major antiquing days, we gathered a substantial collection of quilts and used them on beds, as wall hangings, and on the backs of couches. Sweetwater Farm, our 1802 Ohio farmhouse was the perfect context for quilts, and I loved changing them with the seasons. Our home in Madison, however, was not a quilt house or perhaps our sensibilities had changed, but our new house, this dollhouse cottage, may be more of a quilt house. Or at least that is what I thought the other morning, which opened its eyes slowly after the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice.

Perhaps I will change my plan for this bedroom. Instead of the Pottery Barn duvet with its print of birds and summery greens on crisp white folded at the end of the bed over a white coverlet, maybe I will initiate a Quilt of the Month Club for this room. All fun to contemplate from under the covers in my flannel pajamas, only stirring enough to turn on the light and open the book waiting for me on my bedside table.

Snuggling under the quilt I thought about comfort and all the ways I experience comfort. Yes, there is the meatloaf and mashed potatoes or the slippers and robe kind of comfort, but what brings the kind of comfort that touches my soul, that enriches my life, lightens the load, and encourages me to be a comfort to others?

Finding Comfort
Comfort comes in many forms:
* The lit lamp in the window at dusk.
* An arm extended before crossing an icy street.
* A hug, anytime, anywhere.
* The welcome of friends after a long absence.
* Familiar handwriting on a letter in the mailbox.
* Time set aside for fellowship with family and friends.
* "Found" time to read or rest or pray.
* Stillness in the midst of busyness.
* The words of carols sung and scripture read every year at this time, but always with the invitation to sing and read them, as if for the first time. 

For example, how often have you heard "Comfort Ye, Comfort Ye, My People" from Handel's Messiah and felt your heart lift? These words are taken from The Book of Consolation of Israel, specifically Isaiah 40, in which the prophet is called to announce God's coming. The Exile is nearly over! And isn't that the way with comfort. For at least a moment, one knows connection with another, with one's self, with God.  

Words of Comfort
I invite you to sit with these words of comfort.

The God of all comfort comforts us so that we can comfort others. (2 Corinthians 7:6-7)

May your lovingkindness comfort me. (Psalm 119:76)

Blessed  are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. (Matthew 5:4)

What are the lessons and opportunities in these words? 

The Call to Comfort
It seems to me that in order to be comforted, we must be open to that possibility. At the same time, along with receiving comfort, we are called to comfort others --and as a bonus, we are likely to know comfort then as well. 

Here's the rub, however. Comfort does not necessarily mean being comfortable. To comfort and to know comfort at the heart and hands of another, one may need to stretch, to act in ways that are not easy or familiar. One may need to risk and move out of one's comfort zone. A room at the inn may not be available. You may find yourself in the stable with the cows and the sheep. 

Furthermore, the comfort that comes from snuggling under a quilt does not mean I get to stay there all day. The challenge is to carry that comfort with me into the day and to offer that same comfort to others. The Prophet calls me to be comforted and to comfort.

An Invitation
Where do you find comfort? In what ways have you been comforted recently and how have you received comfort? May this season offer you comfort, but also help you discover yourself as a comforter.