Christmas Eve already?

Boy, that was fast. I know Thanksgiving was late this year, but still...

It's been a busy season. I had some paintings to do, some baking to do, and I finally purchased a candy thermometer and tried my hand at a temperature-sensitive something-or-other... But mostly? Well, I fell back into the typical Mel at Christmastime persona... Crabby, ungrateful, ashamed of what our culture has done to Christmas, alarmed at the state of our country and the happy state of denial where most people reside... My Christmas roller coaster doesn't neatly align with any step program; heck, it isn't even consistent from year to year. But each December, without fail, I end up feeling down about the whole thing, stricken with guilt because the joy I'm supposed to be experiencing is quite absent a lot of the time.

Although, I suppose I am going through some kind of step program, because I've arrived at the acceptance stage now. And I do have some peace about the entire thing. That's no program, though—that's God. I prayed for peace, for the ongoing awareness that Christmas means For Us a Savior. Our pastor did a great sermon on Sunday about that very miracle. It was just what I needed. We have to be intentional about seeking joy. Did you know that?

Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to flit in and out of holiday-induced depression for the next few days. But through it all, I'll be singing a catchy little song to myself: Jesus Christ is coming to town.

Wait, He's already here! He was here, and He is here. That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

I wish you the same song in your heart, through stress and bad weather and Christmas returns. We can still sing.

Appropriate

Given the day, I figured I'd share these song lyrics; we sang this song in church recently, and it was so simple yet so sincere. I have been humming this for days now, and that is a genuinely good thing. Praise and thanks precede blessing, in my experience at least...

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say, "I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us"
Give thanks

Have a happy Thanksgiving, and I hope that you spend the majority of it doing just that: giving thanks. There is strife, there are trials, but there is always a Companion by your side.

A little glimpse of warmer days

These three were clucking around at my sisters' house one day last summer. The sun was warm, the sound of their chatter was soothing, and I snapped a photo in hopes of preserving the moment.

Not quite the same as being there in person, but still powerful enough to evoke a vague essence of balmier days...

It's for sale in my Etsy shop. Now I'm off to start the next one! Carpe diem, right?

Facing the front

I'm a light sleeper. I believe I've already written about that here, probably more than once.

For the past few days, I've been mulling a post about how frequently things change in our lives. It's the same kind of post that just about everyone in the world has read, usually penned by someone in the midst of personal upheaval. The gist of my thoughts is quite familiar: The only thing that's truly permanent is change. It's the one constant factor upon which we can rely.

It became crystal clear to me overnight, as I was awakened countless times by the noise of wind punishing the trees outside and rain trying determinedly to beat its way into our home. All those noises that woke me were the indicators of change coming—colder temperatures, precipitation where there had been none, wind rushing forth to usher in the new weather pattern. Each time the gusts blew with vehemence, I was reminded anew that I'd wake to a very different kind of day than the one that had preceded it.

My husband? My son? They slept through it peacefully, oblivious to the disturbances just a few feet away.

I think it must be nice to sleep through the approaching storm. I can't do it. I feel it, I hear it, I'm jerked awake over and over again with each new gust front. There are things swirling around me in my life, the lives of my family members, and I feel them full force: New patterns, difficulties and obstacles, unwelcome shifts in behavior and lifestyle.

I guess I am a person who directly faces the gust front in order to feel prepared to handle what's coming. I want to be ready each time a front nears... but is that even possible? Knowing that it's lurking doesn't really prepare you for what it's bringing. And yet, you can't spend your life waiting in an underground shelter. Sometimes I'd prefer to be like those folks who simply sleep through the oncoming storm, but I wonder how they do it. Are they standing sideways, weathering the blast without even realizing it's here? And what about those who never see it coming at all? Are their backs to the wind? Doesn't it blow them right over? How can they withstand the force without ending up on their faces?

I suppose there's a comfortable balance, of knowing but not dreading—preparing, but not suspending life during the prep. I have yet to achieve that balance. I face the front, and fret, and watch its swirling destruction. And yet, as someone recently reminded me, we humans are a resilient bunch for the most part. The changes wash over us, and we adjust our internal gauge to accommodate the "new normal." And happily, our stalks usually grow stronger when the wind is damaging. Sometimes we break, but far more often, we endure.

With help, we endure.

The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him. -Nahum 1:7

Butternut Lovely

Fair Butternut, thy beauty pales

Near rounder cousins—orange, bright—

Yet all alone, thy shape and hue

Shine perfectly in their own right.

(I"ve always rooted for the "under-squash.")

This one was done quickly, from real life. It's for sale in my shop. Hope you are enjoying a beautiful fall day, as am I!

Doggedly making my way

Hello! Here is a dog painting I squeezed in recently. His name is Jack. Don't you just want to fondle his ears?

Life goes on, and the leaves change colors, then stiff breezes blow them down from their branches into the yard and driveway. Suddenly, I'm smelling pine and dry grass and wood smoke. There are a plethora of Octoberfest activities from which to choose; I have yet to make it to one of them. Family health concerns and serious discussions of all sorts have sapped my enthusiasm for autumn.

Still, it's here. And it is a thing of beauty—even if you're oblivious most of the time. Let's both try to notice it today. Deal?

Life lines

I don't mean the line that runs across your palm, that favorite of palm-readers the world over. My reference is supposed to be a play on words, a twisting of the utterly inappropriate term "laugh lines." You know, that lighthearted misnomer that some joker created to describe the deep indentations near mouth and eyes that are supposedly caused by too much joviality?

Yeah, right.

Mine are now Life Lines. As in, caused by life. It's been a stressful couple of weeks. I won't burden you, dear reader. But please pray that my family and I will have wisdom and compassion in generous doses.

This painting is a few days old, completed before things became too topsy-turvy. It features a quick rendering of our very own garden-grown, heirloom tomatoes. We've eaten plenty, and will eat more. One must indulge when the indulgence is in season.

Take nothing for granted. Perhaps that will be my new mantra. Can a Christian have a mantra?