a Friday quote

Our worship and devotion will have to stoke the kind of fire in our souls that can truly change our hearts. Ours is a great responsibility not to waste this Advent time.
-Edward Hays, A Pilgrim's Almanac

lost

"and, when he shall die,
take him and cut him out in little stars,
and he will make the face of heaven so fine
that all the world will be in love with night"
--romeo and juliet, william shakespeare

I was supposed to go home for a wake tonight. A family friend died on Monday and I was heading home for his wake. I got a late start to Penn Station and, thanks to the Christmas season, sat in a cab for almost TWO HOURS...got out of the cab, called home and realized I would miss the wake. I'm sorry I missed it. Mr. L was a good man--I haven't seen him in 15 or so years, but I have memories of his big laugh and bigger smile. Memories of setting off fireworks in his driveway and running around his pool deck.

A good friend at work got word this morning that her sister passed away. She'd been ill, but as of last night, she wasn't dying anytime soon. My friend, obviously, is here in NYC...her sister is back home in Ireland. They're having sucky weather...when I texted with G earlier, she was at the airport and hoping to get on a flight tonight. I'm hoping she's arrived safely, if not soundly.

Crappy time of year to lose the people you love.

"we're gonna laugh and we're gonna dance
i'm gonna hold you like my only chance
we're gonna meet again in the kingdom,
that's good news"
-n. nields

Real Reason

There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.
Story People

We spend a lot of our lives doing things because we think they're the right things to do, the right roads to follow. We try to do the things that "make sense" from the outside. We try to do the things that make money, and line up with the things we're "supposed" to want. We don't want to be judged, we don't want to be wrong, we don't want to be weird, we don't want to have to explain ourselves.

But in the end, it really is about loving companionship, right? Happy being an accountant? Awesome for you. Want to be a teacher? Go for it! Love the law? More power to you. Have the need to cut people open? Don't let me stand in your way (but please go to medical school first). It's how we treat our fellow accountants, teachers, lawyers, and doctors that counts...and how we treat the doctors, lawyers, teachers, accountants, janitors, baristas, cab drivers, and IT folks in our lives. WHO we are and not what we are.

Isn't that what this season is about? We aren't waiting for a what, we're waiting for a who...a Savior, a Messiah who came to us in a most unexpected form--baby, born in a stable, born to young, ordinary parents. But we still talk about Him 2,000 years later because of how He treated His neighbors, friends, disciples, enemies, and strangers. The power of His story is that He came, loved, ate, and said it was good. We're good.

And that's enough.

Longing for Light

We wait in darkness.

This is the time of year when I wake up and it's dark...and I leave work, and it's dark! Sunlight is hard to come by, as grey clouds, rain, sleet, and snow dominate the weather.

But the season also brings light...twinkle lights, Christmas trees, candles, Advent wreaths, menorahs, solstice! The light is coming back to us. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

What will that light bring?

This Advent, I don't want the light to simply dispel the darkness, I want the light to shine in the hidden nooks and crannies. I want the light to reveal things I've forgotten. And things I never knew. The light is about revelation...it's about illuminating the deepest and best parts of ourselves.

This, of course, is scary. Marianne Williamson said that it is our LIGHT, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Why? Why are we afraid to be our best, most authentic, genuine, true selves? I guess it's like standing on the street corner naked. Here I am, World. Judge me. Criticize me. Take your best shot. Compliment me. (Why is that last one the hardest to take?) But then I think of the people and things I have gained from being brave enough to be that best, most authentic, genuine, true me. I'll never understand why I made the very-unlike-me leap to join a writing group where I knew no one. To write and read new work to a group of strangers when no one had ever read or heard my writing before. But the decision changed my life in some of the most amazing ways.

So let's let the light come. One candle, one corner at a time.

either way, there is a light on,
either way, we're turning towards the sun!
--n. nields

Day 2...

And already slacking. How's that for an apron wring?

Advent is about preparation...I'm good at preparing. Mental lists, to-do lists, a future rich with laughter and love--oh yes, I'm good at preparing to act. It's the follow through that sometimes proves difficult.

This Advent, I want to prepare with purpose. Not just to DO things, but to BE. Be a better friend, sister, daughter, niece, cousin, teacher, colleague, writer. Be truer to the person I know I can be, truer to the person God calls me to be.

I do believe this blogging, the space carved out for reflection will help me on the journey. I just need to honor the commitment, honor the time and space necessary.

Tis the Season....

...of Advent, that is! And so, my friend D and I are back with our commitment to blog every day. I love Advent. And not because of Christmas! I love the preparation, the focus on getting ready, the mediation on one's gifts. So I begin with a reflection I wrote a few Advents ago...the magic of this season!

Santa is real. Ask the families at Immaculate Conception School in Alphabet City and they'll tell you. Seven years ago, their Santa visited the school for the first time. She watched the students line up quietly in the hallway, all in their uniform plaid, and she waved and smiled as they passed--eyebrows raised towards this stranger. She turned to the principal, a nun in her 60s dressed in full habit, standing tall at 5 foot nothing.

"Give me the names of those children who will have nothing under the tree on Christmas morning."

The next day, this Santa received a fax with a list of 16 names-boys and girls with their ages and sizes beside them. She called a friend or 2 and they hopped in the car. As they drove towards the highway lined with every store imaginable, they made a plan. Each child would get a winter coat, pajamas, sweats and a nicer weekend outfit. Every child would get a book, a puzzle and a toy. At each store, they took their assignments and split up, meeting a half hour later, arms fully loaded. That evening, they called more friends.

"You don't have to shop, but can you chip in to help give these kids a Christmas?"

The bags piled high and it really did begin to look like the Santa's Workshop in those old claymation movies like Rudolph. Each item was tagged with a child's name, age and size, grouped together by family. The teenage sons and daughters of Santa and her elves wrapped each gift, and in about a week, the sleigh--ok, the van--was loaded to head back into New York City.

The week after Christmas, this Santa had yet another note in the mail. Parents and children alike were thrilled and awed by this mystery Santa and her ability to provide the perfect gifts.

Over the years, the list has grown from 16 to 50 children. Every year, Santa and her elves climb into the car early in the morning, stop at Dunkin' Donuts for some fuel, and share the magic of Christmas with those who need a reminder that Santa is real.

a hole in the woods...

On July 2, I boarded an Amtrak train bound for Albany--and 2 weeks that would change my life. That sounds dramatic, I know...but it's still true.

About an hour north of Albany, tucked away from the road behind a man-made lake, is a hole in the woods. You are greeted with whoops and applause, with grins and laughter. You are instructed to Dream Big...to Make Magic Happen. And then you do. But you don't just create the magic, you find it. You experience it. You are surrounded by and immersed in it.

Kids arrive by bus, van, and car. They are greeted with cheers and whistles. Their bags are carried and they are excited to find out if they are Muskrats or Chipmunks, Bobcats or Foxes. Parents smile from ear-to-ear as the kids are reunited with old friends and old counselors.

And then? The madness and fun begins! Parents and siblings get back in the cars, and campers begin their week of campfires, carnivals, high ropes, swimming, fishing, horseback riding, and (Not to mention the Great Escape!) Meals are controlled chaos--counselors serve family style meals and cheers travel from table to table as campers and counselors alike pound on the tables and jump up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs. You find yourself joining in, yelling about ukeleles, bazooka (zooka) bubble gum, and worms. You do it for the laughter, for the light in their eyes.

These are kids who live in hospitals and doctors offices during the year. They don't get to play sports with their classmates or ride their bikes around the neighborhood. They take handfuls of pills and always feel like the sick kids. But then they come to this hole in the woods and they're 'normal.' (Whatever that is!) They get lifted out of their wheelchairs and onto horses. They climb cargo nets 30 feet high and navigate a high ropes course. They catch fish and use paddle boats. They ride roller coasters. They re-enact the Boston Tea Party and roast marshmallows over a campfire.

I could go on forever. I learned so much, saw so much, fell so deeply in love with the kids, the camp, and the people who are committed to making it a place that our kids and their families can come year-round. Biggest lesson? Find the Joy. Every day, everywhere. It really is all around you when you're looking for it.

Camp really did change my life. So much so, that I'm thinking of doing something really crazy to celebrate that change. More on that soon...

Double H Ranch