It was the coldest morning of the winter...two degrees... and the snow had a frozen crust that changed the bright sunlight into a field of diamonds. After breaking the ice with a hatchet so the cows could drink, I stood at the cistern and listened to the silence that surrounded me. Deer tracks crisscrossed the white hill behind me, some coming to the cistern and others to the hay manger. Their small hooves left deep holes in the snow.
At the chicken barn Old Man Possum left his distinctive track marks as he came to clean up the left over cat food. There were a few cat paw prints but not many. Cats have enough sense to stay inside the barn during bad weather. And with mama delivering Meals on Wheels twice a day, they have no need to hunt.
The ducks were piled on top of each other under the willow tree glazed in ice and snow. With their heads tucked under their wings for warmth, they made a living sculpture. Duck tracks on the snowy iced over pond led back and forth as they walked on the water they usually swim in.
These tracks are a part of life every day at the farm but without the snow, I do not see them. They blend into the background of dirt and grass. Grey fox, birds, coyote, rabbits, snakes, bears young and old...all pass by silently (most of the time) and leave only their tracks behind marking their passage.
Advent is the soul snow before Christmas. I can see where I am going in the darkness before the Great Light by following the tracks in the snow. Years of lighting the candles on Advent wreaths, Advent worship, dearly loved music, Advent devotional books from Lake Shore Baptist... all have left tracks in the snow for me to follow. I sit in the winter still morning darkness remembering where I come from and where I am going. Thanks be to God for times of preparation and remembrance, Advent tracks in the snow.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Ready or not, Christmas is coming.
I slept last night with to do lists, not visions of sugar plums, running through my head. Christmas is coming, the gooses is getting fat and everywhere I look I see holiday work to be done... beds to be made, floors to vacuum, kitchen to clean, food to buy, presents to buy and wrap, decorations to finish. I listen to religious pundits call for simpler Christmas celebrations... remember the reason for the season spiritualists... and I wonder how do you do simple for eight adults and five grandsons? And if I knew how, would I want to?
Our Christmas holiday is full of coming and going. Because of work schedules and other family commitments, some of our crew can only stay for one day and night. Yet they still come. The gathering, the noise of four boys and one baby boy, the teasing and jostling, the flare ups and soothing, the bedtime baths, the shared meals using tableware and silver from generations who have gone before, Christmas Eve worship, the lining up on the stairs for the grand procession down to the tree and Christmas presents... all of this is a part of family in process. And family is the reason for the season.
I suspect the season of Jesus’ birth was not all that simple. Traveling when great with child certainly was not easy for Mary. The prospect of giving birth to her first child away from her mothers, aunts, sisters and friends must have been frightening. But, she had no choice. Travel she must as decreed by law. Joseph bore the responsibility for food, lodging and care for his young pregnant wife in a time when there were no Holiday Inns at the exits on the Interstates with Cracker Barrel restaurants next door. And when they arrived in Bethlehem, it was crowded with outlanders, tourists on the same mission as they, obeying a law laid down by those in power. No room at the inn just like Asheville in the leaf season. Simple? I think not. And then there were those angels and shepherds singing and rejoicing in the middle of all the confusion and pain, loneliness and darkness, God the Father’s version of a covered dish meal for Mary and Joseph. Family...
So I sing “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to us, O Israel” and “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” as I become a Christmas Martha preparing for a full house. It is not easy or simple but it is rich in love and meaning. Family surrounds us when we are born, holds us in their loving care as we grow and live, cradles us as we age and die. And if our family here on earth lacks a little in the loving and caring department, the Family of God is able to supply our every need. No angels this year, Lord, please, but I wouldn’t turn a cleaning helper away.
Our Christmas holiday is full of coming and going. Because of work schedules and other family commitments, some of our crew can only stay for one day and night. Yet they still come. The gathering, the noise of four boys and one baby boy, the teasing and jostling, the flare ups and soothing, the bedtime baths, the shared meals using tableware and silver from generations who have gone before, Christmas Eve worship, the lining up on the stairs for the grand procession down to the tree and Christmas presents... all of this is a part of family in process. And family is the reason for the season.
I suspect the season of Jesus’ birth was not all that simple. Traveling when great with child certainly was not easy for Mary. The prospect of giving birth to her first child away from her mothers, aunts, sisters and friends must have been frightening. But, she had no choice. Travel she must as decreed by law. Joseph bore the responsibility for food, lodging and care for his young pregnant wife in a time when there were no Holiday Inns at the exits on the Interstates with Cracker Barrel restaurants next door. And when they arrived in Bethlehem, it was crowded with outlanders, tourists on the same mission as they, obeying a law laid down by those in power. No room at the inn just like Asheville in the leaf season. Simple? I think not. And then there were those angels and shepherds singing and rejoicing in the middle of all the confusion and pain, loneliness and darkness, God the Father’s version of a covered dish meal for Mary and Joseph. Family...
So I sing “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to us, O Israel” and “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” as I become a Christmas Martha preparing for a full house. It is not easy or simple but it is rich in love and meaning. Family surrounds us when we are born, holds us in their loving care as we grow and live, cradles us as we age and die. And if our family here on earth lacks a little in the loving and caring department, the Family of God is able to supply our every need. No angels this year, Lord, please, but I wouldn’t turn a cleaning helper away.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Morning and Evening Star
I lie in bed watching the morning star shine in the dawn darkness...
A gift from Michael’s grandmother, the quilt has hung on a wall in every home of ours. It is over one hundred years old, faded and with some holes made by hungry mice, a reminder of lives and loves long ago. The pattern is two four pointed star shapes, one long star and one short star, with stripes and a bow tie in the center of the shorter star. The long stars are a dark fabric that dominates the overall pattern with the short stars pieced in strips of varying fabrics and hues. Girl friends gathered, pieced and quilted this coverlet, signed their names to it and gave it to Michael’s grandfather as a friendship quilt when he married his grandmother. Her name is among the names at the bottom edge of the quilt. I read those names and wonder about the lives of those women. Were they friends forever? Were their lives full of love and good work and family? What were their sorrows and joys?
I wanted to paint a quilt for our newly restored high barn and chose this friendship pattern for the project. Michael and I stayed up late one Sunday night drawing the pattern to scale. That week I handed out copies to some of the farm family and invited them to help with the color selection. I was amazed by the responses. Jim, our gifted carpenter friend who is helping save the barn, saw circles around crosses in the pattern. Candace saw blue, green and white or lavender, yellow and blue arranged in different patterns. Leisa used dove gray, blue and orange. Michael saw dark blue for the larger stars. The variation in visions reminded me that all of us see the world through our own eyes and none of us see the same things the same way all the time. My challenge now is to incorporate the different ways of seeing into this quilt so that it, like the inspiration friendship quilt, reflects the friends who were a part of its creation.
Those women long ago had it right. They used bits and pieces for the small stars sewn together in small strips, reflections of the bits and pieces of our days. Most of our days pass by with the work of daily living, tasks that seem useful perhaps but not inspired. The holy days, the days that make a difference, loom large in our memories like the dark stars in the pattern and give our lives structure and meaning. One cannot exist without the other. A quilt made of only dark stars, holy days, would have no meaning without the pattern of the small stars of our daily life.
The morning star shining brightly in the dawn darkness disappears, blotted out by a dark cloud. I watch and wait. The star shine appears again as the cloud passes. I rest in the sure and certain knowledge that morning and evening starlight are Advent benedictions for darkness that gives way to light again and again. Even when I cannot see the Light, it is there waiting for me and I will rejoice in its coming. Thanks be to God for friendship quilt lives and for the Light that lights my path always. Amen.
A gift from Michael’s grandmother, the quilt has hung on a wall in every home of ours. It is over one hundred years old, faded and with some holes made by hungry mice, a reminder of lives and loves long ago. The pattern is two four pointed star shapes, one long star and one short star, with stripes and a bow tie in the center of the shorter star. The long stars are a dark fabric that dominates the overall pattern with the short stars pieced in strips of varying fabrics and hues. Girl friends gathered, pieced and quilted this coverlet, signed their names to it and gave it to Michael’s grandfather as a friendship quilt when he married his grandmother. Her name is among the names at the bottom edge of the quilt. I read those names and wonder about the lives of those women. Were they friends forever? Were their lives full of love and good work and family? What were their sorrows and joys?
I wanted to paint a quilt for our newly restored high barn and chose this friendship pattern for the project. Michael and I stayed up late one Sunday night drawing the pattern to scale. That week I handed out copies to some of the farm family and invited them to help with the color selection. I was amazed by the responses. Jim, our gifted carpenter friend who is helping save the barn, saw circles around crosses in the pattern. Candace saw blue, green and white or lavender, yellow and blue arranged in different patterns. Leisa used dove gray, blue and orange. Michael saw dark blue for the larger stars. The variation in visions reminded me that all of us see the world through our own eyes and none of us see the same things the same way all the time. My challenge now is to incorporate the different ways of seeing into this quilt so that it, like the inspiration friendship quilt, reflects the friends who were a part of its creation.
Those women long ago had it right. They used bits and pieces for the small stars sewn together in small strips, reflections of the bits and pieces of our days. Most of our days pass by with the work of daily living, tasks that seem useful perhaps but not inspired. The holy days, the days that make a difference, loom large in our memories like the dark stars in the pattern and give our lives structure and meaning. One cannot exist without the other. A quilt made of only dark stars, holy days, would have no meaning without the pattern of the small stars of our daily life.
The morning star shining brightly in the dawn darkness disappears, blotted out by a dark cloud. I watch and wait. The star shine appears again as the cloud passes. I rest in the sure and certain knowledge that morning and evening starlight are Advent benedictions for darkness that gives way to light again and again. Even when I cannot see the Light, it is there waiting for me and I will rejoice in its coming. Thanks be to God for friendship quilt lives and for the Light that lights my path always. Amen.
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