Just Faith, Everyday

I am remembering the holiday of my youth, the reason why it was so exciting. Time slowed down for play, for naps, for catching up. I hear rain smattering windows, see leaves floating down, brown, orange. They are a living poem. Overwhelmed by beauty, I look down at a sleeping girl, one big pout, long eyelashes. Her warmth is a dream. She IS real. Sometimes I have to remind myself, rub my belly, consider where I've been, consider the wonder of it. Joy and Wonder. These are my mantras this holiday, Advent--awaiting--what? I already have so much! How could I receive more? God recreates us as we wait, each day converting our hearts into joy. I want to give this joy and wonder, help others see it. Maybe joy comes in knowing that the little things of life make the best gifts: port, cheese, chocolate, and good conversation with a friend on a cold night; creating a satisfying voice in my writing; connecting with family over silly squabbles and lovely moments shared; helping a stude...

Halloween was never a time of unbridled fun; for that matter, not much was in my altogether protected childhood. My remembrance was activity restricted: get in the car and go across town to family households. We got good candy, and popcorn balls, and little toys; the joy of flitting through the streets in costumes creative and flowing was for the other kids on the block. It wasn’t until I had my firstborn daughter that I was able to flit from door to door with my little ladybug. Look for the front porch light, they said. I had never looked for a front door light, didn’t even know that was the agreed-upon sign. It’s wonder for me--we look up and down the streets as we stroll, swinging loot bucket in hand, gathering super-cape and looking to the withering sunlight, feeling the nipping cold. It’s wonder. Every day I find a new thing to wonder at, and this light-on-the-porch-everyone-knew- about has led me into various reflections on the nature of communication. Doesn’t it seem dange...