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Dearest Thoughtful Friends. . .
Family is calling me to our New Year's Celebration; but I wanted to leave one last Thought for 2011 on Thoughtful Spot.
Clever little list adapted from other sources for our devotion tonight. . .
Over dinner, we will share what we think one another would write down. . .
then privately fill out our ownpage any way we wish
seal it in an envelope to be opened December 31, 2012, the LORD willing.
Blessings, Dear Hearts, and a very happy New Year.
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Little Lady Blonde One has spent her Christmas week in her sewing nook. . .
and the house hums with delightful creativity. . .
needle and thread bring her peace. . .
it is a gift that crossed generations,
handed down through grandmothers and aunts
she has never known.
In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers
She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
~from the Proverbs Woman, Proverbs 31
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Carmelized Chicken with Cranberry Conserve
Cheddar Potato Souffle
Roasted Asparagus
By clicking on the images, you will be taken to another window and the recipes. . .
potato yumminess made us a wee bit greedy
and Husband proclaimed the rating of a dish by how much was left
Happy to report
souffle dish empty
Bon Appetit!
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I call it my Book of Days. It holds the liturgy of hours of an ordinary life. . .bent upon being extra-ordinary. . .
Common, little, recycled notebook. . .spiral bound like time. . .
Pages of days-spent thick with life-lived . . . no longer lie flat like the unmarked, the un-lived pages. . .
Teach me to number my days aright, that I may gain a heart of wisdom.
~Psalm 90:12
first habit, bit by bit. Here a little; there a little. (Isaiah 28:10).
Father pulls apart and breaks down the tangled vines of good intentions and misspent effort . . .He instructs the heart . . .if the garden row of days are properly oriented and straight. . .and bit by bit we tackle the tasks before us like little seeds sown. . . then our efforts grow strong without overcrowding. . . becoming fruit-bearers. . .of bigger, deeper dreams
second habit, prepare. . .Buy me now this little book. . .bypass the beautiful planners and clever check lists. . .for common days, for this common, little woman, a hardy , recycled cardboard book with narrow ruled lines and a good ink pen. . .life still hums like a memory in the sugarcane and tree sawdust of its cover and pages. . .organic soil for the daily seeds. . .the notebook and pen become weapons of mass creation. . .
third habit, be intentional. . .so that what is important is not crowded out by the urgent.
Morning Order. . .the matins of an ordinary day. . .
the first-things-first part of the day that sets the course for life. . .the Quiet Time of Prayer and communion. . .the strict discipline of exercise and meal planning. . .here body and heart are nourished for tasks ahead
Order of Work. . .the tern and sext of an ordinary day
the position I have been assigned, the now-employment for this season is homemaking, each task has its own day, each task done with excellence .
Afternoon Order. . .the none of an ordinary day
Sow the seeds of time-moving-toward-goals here. . .oh, Beloved, if I would change, live out a radical faith, soar fearlessly, I must know my goals and plan how to grow to achieve them. . .with day by day, bit by bit of intentionality. . .
~from Corey Amaro's Tongue in Cheek
Order the work of the evening. . .the vespers of an ordinary day
a time when putting away, lowering the blinds, and turning on the lights becomes a ritual of prayer
seeking the company of loved ones . . .a delight
Order the work of preparing for evening's rest with proper care. . . the compline of an ordinary day.
Every act so ordinary, so effective in its life-tendering potential. . . a preparation to receive the gift of sleep, to care for the gift of the body, to enter the gift of a new day with thoughtful preparation
and little brown Book of Days will capture last thoughts. . .last directions. . .for ordering the coming day. . .
Considering the Practice of New Habits with the community at . . .
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Reflections of Christ Slideshow from Reflections of Christ on Vimeo.
I stumbled upon this beautiful photography by Mark Mabry detailing the life of Christ. . . over at "Our Best Bites."
Their Christmas greeting is a lovely read, too.
May I gently recommend that you scroll down to the Thoughtful Spot player and place it on "pause" before playing this Christmas video?
My prayer is that you are having
a beautiful Christmas week filled with grace and peace.
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First light spilled through french doors and lay a single broad beam of light on the little wooden manger, draped now with tallit, rimmed by delicate fringes the woman touched for healing. . . Jesus. Heart aches for you.
The dance of gift exchange circled 'round the room, and joy and peace garlanded our necks, crowned our heads, and spilled like fragrant oil down our robes. . .and always the manger was there.
Eldest Daughter spoke the Christmas story from the Word written on her heart. We listened, we held hands, we breathed holy air. . .and Husband's shirt bore the words of our eager intent for new year. . .new t-shirt from Little Lady Curls. . ."As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD. . ."
May it be so, Father. Come change us. Imbue our spirits with the Spirit of Your Son. Forgive us for our many sins. Grant us joy and peace in the midst of any and all circumstances. . .allow us the privilege of being light-beares for You.
In Jesus name.
Amen.
Grace Gifts. . .
#0527 -watching my daughters exchange rare and heart-thought gifts and tight, tight thank-you hugs
#0528 - exchanging heart-is-full look with Husband
#0529 - Mother, trembling with the effort, of one more beautiful Christmas breakfast for her Loved Ones
#5030 - little voices float from kitchen to dining room, singing "Happy Birthday, Jesus"
#0531 - little Cooper finding me among twenty and whispering, "Will you come look at Alvin with me"
#0532 - Alvin Cotton Head Ninny Muggins, the hamster
#0533 - once-a-year visit with Nancy and her beautiful family in Mother's home on Christmas night, heart talk deep and tumbling and head thrown back in laughter. . .storing provender for the year
#0534 - Christmas grace. . .the journey to the stable once again. . .
Counting the Grace Gifts with the community at. . .
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Sing with the Angels . . .
The holiest place there could ever be
All you can do is bow
Before the One who made heaven and earth
Before the Almighty God
For Him alone. . .
Jesus
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Sometimes. . .I just happen to "hear" a book, a chapter, a verse whispered in my heart. . .
I turn to it. . .
and sometimes,
I hope it is not about me.
Take Jeremiah 23, for example.
I did; this morning.
All about false prophets crying "peace."
Then, while I quietly folded laundry. . .stacks of it. . .
with the morning news on. . .
I began to tremble,
I felt uneasy. . .
There was a rabbi, a priest, an imam,
(this is not the beginning of a bad joke)
and two coiffed, sophisticated anchor people, a man and a woman. . .
crying "peace! peace!"
And how pleased they were with themselves for their peaceful exchange;
their answer for the world. . .if it would only listen. . .respect the dignity of one another.
And the priest said, "Why is it considered a slur to say the President may be a Muslim?" and I agreed. But then this Christian brother asked, "What is wrong with being a Muslim?"
It is not about being wrong, but about missing what is right.
With all my heart, I love my Muslim friend and my Jewish brother, and I respect you and I respect your right to worship as you believe is right.
But, Beloved,
there is no peace without Jesus Christ.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government
and peace
there will be no end.
~Isaiah 9:6-7
Selah
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Two more sleeps, then Christmas.
Little Lady Blond One spent the afternoon at the craft table in the garage
spinning her magic with ribbons, pine cones, and cedar.
The Gentleman of the House shelled bags and bags of pecans
that fell from the trees of friends.
Little Lady Curls and I scrubbed the floors and readied the kitchen for baking with the Muppet's Christmas Carol playing in the background.
As the evening drew velvet curtains against the windows
we lit the Christmas candles
cuddled on the sofa and chairs with glasses of sparkling blueberry apple cider
breathing in the curling wreath of applesauce cake baking in the oven
and watched the beautiful Nativity Story.
It's true. . .
wherever you find Love
it feels like Christmas.
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Miss Bennett: "Books— oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings." 
"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. . ."
"Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. . . For you alone, I think and plan. "
"My beloved is mine and I am his." ~ Song of Solomon
