the gift that keeps on giving?

So in the true North American spirit of the season, I have found myself thinking, yet again, about how hours and days just seem to fly at this time of year.  By "North American spirit" I am mainly referring to our retail-oriented, materialistic selves that seem to get wrapped up tighter than a Christmas bow from the pressures of society to "buy buy buy" in order to feel like we've won the Christmas marathon.  That feeling that says "Yes!  I've done it again! Bought gifts for everyone, prepped all my food and it's only December 18th!" Now, I am not saying that I haven't been there "done that" either.  But that is what I am trying to get away from as each year sees me grow older, and more wary of what's really important in my life.  Now, I am positive that this blog can be tacked up with more than just a few others that discuss the "true" spirit of Christmas.  But to me - it's not just about Christmas.  It's about the whole "rush, rush, rush" mentality  that goes on year-round and gets us.... well, where exactly?  And why is it that retail/media/etc. have to rush us from one celebration to another before we blink an eye?  Is there such a thing as "relishing the moment" anymore? 

Today I looked at my daughter and thought to myself "how I wish I could stop time whenever I wanted to relish in her gaze, a laugh, a sigh, a 'fuzzy nuzzle' of baby hugs" ... to have a pause button on life would be the exact remedy for these wistful moments.  These moments turn into tiny blessings that fill our days with pleasant nuggets of memories we can pull out when we are having a "rat race" day.

I stop and think about my childhood memories of Christmas and what it meant to me.  Did I have those tiny blessings of memory back then, when all that really mattered to me was my Christmas wish list and what kind of cake my grandmother would bring for our Christmas dinner? I dig deep down and realize that, yes, I did have moments that I cherish to this day: The soft glow of candles in church on Christmas Eve that warmed my cheeks and heart as I listened to the choir joyfully proclaim Christ`s birth. The joyful sincerety of giving gifts and knowing they will be appreciated. 

The smell of gingerbread baking in my grandmother`s oven. The gathering of family to sing (in perfect harmony) the troparian (Hymn of the Nativity) before our Christmas dinner.  The caroling with a group of friends to those less fortunate than us, and seeing their delight as we sang and made their Christmas day so much more meaningful (NB: I will never forget the look on one elderly gentleman`s face when we sang for him. He was all alone in a tiny one bedroom basement apartment and offered us his only treat, Christmas chocolates, as an offering for our caroling.  My heart still aches when I think of him.  He is in my prayer book to this day.) 

All these memories and so, so many more, make me stop and proverbially smell the roses.  I really do think that God gave us memory to let us enjoy these true, pure moments.  I see it as a Christmas gift from Him to all of us.  We just have to appreciate it, like any other gift, for what it is and not take it for granted.  No, we don`t have a pause button, but we are most certainly blessed with these precious, sweet moments in time that make us go "Mm hmm!"



grateful solitude

It has been one of those days where life rudely whirls by you, shoving you out of the way without as much as an 'excuse me,' leaving you in its wake, wondering what just happened. 

And now, after brushing myself off and regaining my balance, I am relishing in that quiet moment between utter chaos and night time "beddy byes."  The Christmas lights are on, the trees are lit.  My daughter's prayers have been whispered and my husband is quietly reflecting on life in the cold outdoor air as he takes a brisk walk.  I am listening my 2011 Christmas CD of choice that doesn't seem so much Christmas-y, as "winter evening relaxation"  (last year's obsession and still on my top 5 list was Sarah McLachlan's Christmas CD) and am about to sit down and write this year's Christmas cards.  It's the simple pleasures like this that make me smile, sit for a moment... and just breathe.  In tune with my daughter's soft snoring through the monitor. And as I reflect back on the chaos of the day, I am reminded of a small moment that God blesses us with on occasion.

Today something special happened.  I found something very dear to me that I thought was lost forever.  It was my cross that I have had since childhood, along with a few icon pendants that each meant something to me worth more than any priceless gem I could think of.  It was morning, and I was getting ready for work.. the typical hectic day was ensuing.  As I carelessly pulled on a necklace that hung from my mirror, a flash of silver caught my eye.  I noticed my long-lost cross (going on 2 months) was hanging there on the mirror, underneath my necklace, in plain sight.  I must have put it there months ago, and somehow completely forgot about it - how I could have done this I still don't understand, since I only take off my cross when I shower...  anyway, to make a long story short, I fretted over this loss for months, only to find it now... I wonder at God's timing constantly.  Did He let me find it now because I needed to lose it to appreciate it? Did He let me find it now because when I lost it, I turned my prayers back to Him in earnest?  There are so many reasons why this could have happened.  I choose to think of it as God's will, and accept the fact that I was humbled enough to be able to have it back again. If you're Orthodox and wear a cross, or even if you just wear a necklace all the time, after a while you almost forget it's there.  I know I didn't think about my cross all the time.... so is that God's way of telling me that He's with us all the time, and we need to think about Him more often than just an afterthought? This question is more of a realization, actually.

 So, with this all being said, with the day being almost over, and with my cross safely back around my neck, I also whisper a few prayers, as my daughter did earlier this evening,  and thank God for the "rude and hectic" day, and blessing us with such lovely, reflective moments.

brave new world.

I am not your die-hard blogger.  I am not even really a "writer" per se.  I like to jot my thoughts down when the mood strikes.  If the mood isn't there then I feel like I am doing an assignment instead of releshing in the pure enjoyment of watching words come together to form a thought. 

The blog's title reflects the reason for my blogging and sharing.

Let's start with the love

I have decided to start this blog mainly for my daughter, who is 16 months of pure sweetness and also to allow myself to express a very new mother's thoughts and moments of this little creature that make me glow with pride, affection, and a love I didn't know existed until she found her way into this world.

Praise (which is first in my title for a reason):

The spiritual side of me also wants to relish in the written word.  I have always been an avid journal-keeper.  Mainly to jot down these moments of spiritual upheavel, upliftedness, uprising, and ofcourse, reflection.  It has pacified many late-turned-early hours when my mind would race and my soul would ache to be heard. I figure that a blog can also do just that, but also be able to share with others these wisps of revelation.  As an Orthodox Christian, I also believe that sharing thoughts can lead to others helping you or you helping them.  It really works both ways.

Forgive:

As I sit and write, and sip coffee and enjoy a moment of solitude I also think about the third word in my title: Forgiveness. Somehow, I have been blessed with the act of forgiving very easily.  For me, it has never been a second thought to tell someone "it's fine, really" ... " I forgive you."  And yet I find myself second guessing my reaction most of the time because others tell me that I should be stronger than that...I should "forgive" but not "forget..."  is there a difference?  I never could see one.  Yes, it comes easy to me, but sometimes I wonder if it's really in earnest and deep down inside I am still resentful. 

So with all this being said, I end my first "real" blog posting.  I send this out (to quote the lovely Meg Ryan from "You've Got Mail") "to the dear void."  Only, I don't necessarily want a response to any of these posts.  I just want reflection, contemplation and the satisfaction of feeling that my words have fed rather than starved. 

To you, my dear daughter, I dedicate this page.  Enjoy your mother's words.  They are not necessarily words of wisdom, but they are your mother's all the same.