December Manifesto

I've been thinking a lot about Christmas these last few days. Reviewing in my mind the spirit of the season as it exists in our house, and wondering how I can set a better tone this year. Don't get me wrong--Christmas is always sweet, warm--magical. But it's also busy. And it brings financial stress, and fear of disappointing family members (living in the same city as most of our family is a huge blessing, except when everyone wants you around in the same moment). It's ironic, but not surprising, I guess, that anxiety is the most pervasive at the very time that we are celebrating the coming of a rescuer from the need to merit our own worth.

I've also been reevaluating Growing Home--asking myself those questions that you do when you're sort of wondering "what's next?" and you're trying to ferret out the right direction. I remembered that when I came up with the name of this blog I imagined "growing" not so much as an adverb, but a verb. The idea was that I would share here the things I do to grow a sense of home around our little family. That's vague, I know--but what it means to me is that the things I make or do with my children are purposed to bring beauty, grace, and joy into our family life--even when that's just bringing an aroma of creativity to our surroundings. Using my gifts to bless my children is my way of giving them certainty that they are treasured by God and by their parents, as well as nudging them softly to step out and marvel at the great, wide world. It's really what I see as my mission as a mother in this season.

But I feel like I've been fairly distracted from that goal lately--and preparing for Christmas the way I usually do--rushing and worry interspersed with schizophrenic moments of sweetness when we talk about the "real" meaning of Christmas--is not going to help. SO, we're going to try to do things differently this Advent.

We're going to snuggle a LOT. We're going to love each other by making some gifts and we're going to love each other by buying others. We're going to make cookies and plant paper whites and donate toys and decorate as we are moved to, but NOT because we've made a list of rules for ourselves. We're going to talk about Jesus a lot and we're going to sing and dance every time we have the inclination. And where I have margin to create, I'm going to focus my efforts on finishing what I've started for my family--like long overdue roman shades and that elusive teepee--rather than a panoply of new gift ideas that will keep me up past midnight every night of December.

I hope you'll see that life in our little home is a little less productive, and that catching the beauty in the mundane, daily moments happens a little more frequently. Like this, for example: who knew that sunset on the railroad tracks was so breathtaking?

Have a wonderful Thursday.

p.s. These pictures came from a trip to one of our favorite local spots: the "big, big bridge" at Westside Provisions District. On special summer nights, you can find Big Brother and I here with bowls of ice cream and a pile of library books. The very best moments are when the train actually comes.