Reach (Hope Writers 2020 Writing Challenge)

This week I took part in the Hope Writers 2020 Re-imagine Writing Challenge. I managed to respond to all but one of the prompts, and I'm posting them here if you want to read or share them.

I've been watching Spring arrive all around me as we've sheltered in place. While Nature thumbs her nose at "social distancing" (just ask the robins who built their nest above my back door), she's pretty good at sheltering in place. That's what Nature does best in the winter. Bears hibernate, flowers retreat, trees shed their leaves, everything pares back to the basest of needs to reserve their strength and restore themselves. Nature shelters in preparation for Spring.

And Spring is beautiful. I am always delighted by the first shoots of green and the tiny buds that quietly announce the turn in the weather. It is beautiful to watch.

It is painful to DO. 

imagine the roots underground as they begin to stretch out of their comfortable sleep and reach, against gravity, toward the surface. Once those little roots get to the boundary of the soil they have to then break through. Then they have to weather fluctuating temperatures. We always paint Spring in pastel colors and think of tender, sweet things. It is a season of hope, when potential is actually tangible. I think of Spring as frail.

But Spring is a Badass!

It's an entire season of stretching, opening up and reaching. When I set about stretching in the morning, I know I"m going to have to face the pains and quirks in my body. When I open up, there is risk. And reaching...

Reach is a complex word, it means both the journey and the destination. It's the work, the effort and the discipline to move toward a goal.

Also, it is actually arriving AT that goal. 

It hardly seems fair that one word can mean both things. I mean, the emotions are so different. The day to day of putting one foot in front of the other and finding the stamina to continue versus the celebration of the final arrival. 

Maybe that's the hope here. In every hard won "put one foot in front of the other" there is a drop of celebration. When I survive an honest and vulnerable conversation, there is a pre-echo of the dance I'll do at the end of the journey.

Here's to learning how to enjoy the reaching until we reach it.

~Karlie

Rest (Hope Writers 2020 Writing Challenge)

This week I took part in the Hope Writers 2020 Re-imagine Writing Challenge. I managed to respond to all but one of the prompts, and I'm posting them here if you want to read or share them.

As Kansas City phases out of quarantine I am planning a trip to my family in Southeastern Missouri.

There, I don't take myself too seriously. To be honest, I really don't have a choice. The love languages in my family are teasing and mockery. We laugh with and at each other freely. Then we find some way to explore the river.

THE river, our river.

My summer memories center around this river and the family that still lives near it. I've floated on it, kayaked it, swam in it, bathed in it. My aunt and uncle have taken me to explore many of its banks and shared their stories. We scattered Mama's ashes there.

I swear to you, pushing off into the river is pretty close to magic. I feel stress fall away that I didn't even know I was carrying. I sit in the kayak and let the river move me along. I listen to the choir of flora and fauna and just drift.

My psyche starts to mend and my spirit gathers strength. I breathe deeply and I embrace rest.

Our river is a 6 hour drive from where I live my life, however. Rest can't always happen in an ideal place, surrounded by the right circumstances.

I can't drive that far every time I need to not take myself too seriously! I can't wait months before I breathe deeply. My spirit needs strengthening more often than I can make it to the company of my family.

So, I've learned little rests.

• Talking to friends
• Walking, preferably dancing, in the rain
• Singing along with familiar songs
• My morning London Fog
• Laughing
• Taking a stroll in spring weather

They aren't difficult and they don't take a lot of time. But sometimes I still have to be reminded to DO them.

Her: “How are you?”

Me:  “Meh”

Her: “That’s fair.”

10 minutes later

Her: “Are you taking walks?”

Me:  “No”

Her: “I love you, but take walks”

Me:  “Okay, fine”

Also Me: “I’m getting my shoes now”

And then the conversation devolved into memes and alternate methods of walking. Which made me laugh. Out loud.

I'm not sure why it's hard for me to embrace rest that rejuvenates me. But I am so thankful for friends and family that don't allow me to take myself too seriously and who remind me to do the things that help me live my life with more abundance.

Re-imagine (Final Hope Writer's Writing challenge)

This week I took part in the Hope Writers 2020 Re-imagine Writing Challenge. I managed to respond to all but one of the prompts, and I'm posting them here if you want to read or share them.

I love to re-imagine. Re-imagine spaces, purpose, schedule. I like to solve problems using only what is on hand and to throw a party with very little extra purchases. I have an established, acknowledged skill set in this area, a history of success.

I am even enjoying re-imagining this stage in my life. I love casting the vision and dreaming. There is a picture inside of me that feels too big to hold in, a ministry ready to unfurl its baby tendrils. I acknowledge its presence and I feel its hope. I walk around my home and see pieces of it ready to morph in support of the larger calling,

But I find it all hard to share, to put into words. I'm not sure how it will sit with you, how I can translate it. Honestly, it is all safer if I leave it as imagination. Let it remain a sketch in pencil and not attempt the permanence of ink and color.

I admit, I’m scared. 

I’ve lost dreams before.

And right now, I don't have a pithy summation. I can't see a next step. I can only believe there is one and the Holy Spirit will reveal it to me in time.

~Karlie

Remember Forward (Hope Writers Challenge)

This week I took part in the Hope Writers 2020 Re-imagine Writing Challenge. I managed to respond to all but one of the prompts, and I'm posting them here if you want to read or share them.

Experts tell us that elephants remember enemies and friends, where droughts have dried up their water sources, where danger and death have occurred. In their memory lies their wisdom. 

The sad things, the heart breaking events, traumatic instances in our lives shape us. They don’t shape everyone the same, but they are a part of the equation of our lives. It is so easy to stay there, to allow the memory to hold us captive.

The sad memories are hard. Sometimes moving past them feels insurmountable.

But there is so much more to remember in the sad. 

Remembering is our heritage, our compassion and our victory.

There are several holidays set aside in our calendar to remember our heritage, our people, our cloud of witnesses. It’s important to remember who has gone before us. It’s vital to our humility to acknowledge what has been accomplished for us. It makes our community stronger, our stories more powerful.

I don’t want to forget the people I love who no longer walk this earth with me. Knowing them, remembering them, makes me a more compassionate person. Knowing their stories helps me to see the perspective of others. It helps me to see pain and respond to it with grace.

And we must remember the victories, even if remembering them remembers the pain. Victory is seldom without pain. It is seldom without loss, never without risk. Consider the final curtain call at the end of a performance, the exhilaration of crossing the finish line or the joy of childbirth. 

All are victories and all are moments that we remember. But in the applause are the days spent researching, memorizing and altering your own physicalizations. Present in the celebration are the weeks spent pushing the limits of your body and training yourself to alter breathing and pace. In the sweet welcome are the remnants of months of sharing your very body with another life and the pain of entry.

That’s how we hope, remembering forward.

God knows the importance of “Remember”. He teaches us to remember the victories, the times that he has provided. Joshua set up 12 memorial stones to remember the parting of the Red Sea, and Samuel remembered God’s victory in battle with Ebenezer stones.

I love the idea of Ebenezer stones, “This marks the place where God helped us. (Message translation)”. Visual reminders of victory, provision and love. I know I need those. On the days when I am not merely alone but lonely, when I feel unimportant. These stones, the figurative and the literal, help me to remember, to set one foot in front of the other and build up a little momentum. In order to set one foot in front of the other. In order to lift up my eyes and remember hope. 

To breathe, take a walk, and to believe.

Sheltering in Place & Celebrating Spring

I love March, there are so many lovely things that happen in it. Even if March began our nationwide "Shelter in Place" and we've all had to re-think how we do life and community.
Little promises of spring started popping up on my daily walks.  This time of year encourages me to take time to see the buds, the green shooting out of the ground, the delicate beginnings of delightful spring. And those little signs have had an even bigger importance this year, as we all adjust to longer days with less to occupy us. Or perhaps longer days with no place to recharge in the quiet that we may require.

St. Patrick's Day was celebrated. There is just something about a holiday celebrating what is green and Irish in our lives that makes me smile.  It isn't a holiday I spend a lot of money on, but I enjoy giving it a nod as it appears in shop windows, in the clothes I wear and the shot of Bailey's I add to my tea.

Of course, Lent is throughout the month.  Pairing up with my more contemplative walks, this time set aside in appreciation of what Jesus walked through out of love for me marks the days of March.  Some years I give something up (last year it was TV), some years I add things. This year we've all given up celebrations and gatherings. We are all learning what it looks like to have the very rhythm of our life changed, pretty appropriate for the season.

But let's not forget, this is also the month of my birthday.  I've said before, I have no shame about celebrating a day set aside for ME!  I love it, I embrace it, I revel in it. This year I turned 46 and I'm owning it. I have looked forward to this stage in my life for a long time. Something about the confidence that comes from accomplishing a marriage, raising a family and acceptance in the workplace.

Interestingly enough, I have none of these things as I begin my 46th year. My marriage of 17+ years is over. I have not raised children. I was fired from the job I had held for 3 years. Everything is up in the air, there is no confidence in the society norms for this girl. For any of us, really.

And yet.

There is still much that is Irish and green to celebrate.

The roots of  the flowers have done their job through the brutal winter months, gathering and storing nutrients. I know this because the buds and blades are making their presence known in those walks.

As I focus on my life and the faith in a loving God that I cling to, I am excited about what comes next. I am sad about what has to be left behind, but I anticipate joy in the next years. I cradle the beauty that has visited me in the dark of these past years.

I have never birthed or raised children. I am a surrogate aunt, dear friend and partner in crime to an assortment of delightful boys and girls, some of who are now quirky young adults. They buy me giant teddy bears on the anniversary of my mother's birthday, call me Wild Child and love to take part in the plays I direct.

My marriage ended in a surprise explosion that shocked me to the core and had me questioning...well, everything. I have a group of friends that love me. They stop by my house unexpectedly just to validate that I am not crazy. They send me a TV to replace the one that my ex took. They find a way to be present with me, even when they live across the country. I am loved and I love.

I was fired from a place that taught me much. I was free to take a job in the wild west for several months. Free to accept a trip to Hawaii and learn to be okay living in a swimsuit for a week. I have remembered skills that enable me to help an entirely different group of people.

We have endured weeks of "Sheltering in Place" and abrupt changes to the rhythm of our lives. We have learned to collect community in new ways. Spring continues to surround us and whisper hope through our windows. Children are coloring their sidewalks and posing bears in windows to make strangers smile.

It is nothing like we expected it to be, but Spring continues to be worth celebrating.

Still learning to be fruitful,
Karlie

How are you?

How are you doing?

How are you handling the enforced time at home?

I've got to be honest, I'm struggling to keep my balance.  I'm finding any forward momentum hard.

First of all, I am a social person. I purposely chose a job that has me interacting with the public on a moment to moment basis. I appreciate down time, and I can lose myself in a book for hours. But I even prefer reading in the proximity of other people who are also reading.

Second of all, I'm an affectionate person. I tend to touch the people that I'm talking to. Hugging me is a great way to make me smile. I try not to force that on anyone, and I am currently doing my part to protect the population at large and those I love in particular by denying that part of my makeup.

Finally, I don't like to be told what to do.

And I'm sure that you have your own reasons that this is difficult.

I also have to admit that I'm scared. I am facing that and I'm not giving into it, but it is true. The unknown is always frightening and the unknown that makes us question the world as we know it...

As a social person, I'm fortunate to have a job that...Well, I'm fortunate to have a job. Specifically, a job that continues to need me to interact with people. But, I'm not sure what that will look like in the face of an extended time of lock down. And that frightens me. My job isn't one that I can do "from home".

I watch the people around me react in fear, and I fight the kind of thinking that leads to mob mentality.

My positive outlook and reservoir of faith & hope are taking a beating.

It isn't lost on me that we are all facing this disruption of our lives, this bump in the "norm", in the season leading up to Easter. All of us are "giving up" something for Lent. It is being forced on us, true. Social people like me are giving up the gatherings that feed us. My introvert friends are giving up the space and the quiet that they depend on and sharing it with their families. Our freedoms are inhibited. Our pleasures are changed.

And yet.

We are not without hope. "Sunday is coming".

The discipline of finding beautiful things is helping me repair and refill my reservoirs.

I am so thankful for Spring! Sunshine through my windows and on my face, sturdy little green sprouts shooting through the ground, and the birds warming up their vocal chords all make my gratitude list a little stronger. Every day something in my overgrown wilderness of a yard is changing, reminding me that life is made up of cycles. Whispering that beauty happens in the craggiest of circumstances.

Messenger chats with friends overseas, text streams with local ones remind me that people know who I am. Teaching art classes on Zoom gives outlet to my social side.

On the many mornings that I find it hard to do anything but lay in bed, I am not without hope. Spring came this year, just like it does every year. The flowers pushed through the hard soil and the birds returned with their song.

So, on this coming Good Friday, I will be repeating this mantra to myself and I invite you to join me in it,

"My friends, we are not without hope."

~Karlie

How to answer the question, "What is your favorite book?"

I've been thinking about this list since I read my friend Janet's Facebook post this morning. Her brother invited people to post their top 10 favorite books, Janet was able to narrow it down to 15.

Me? It's such a complex question. Reading has been such a big part of my life, c-a-t spells cat to now. In high school my best friend, Rachel, and I used to meet at the library. We would check out books and ride our bikes back to her house. Then we would lounge in her living room and read for the afternoon. Her sister Rebecca never did understand how that was fun for us.

Okay, no more excuses.

Pocket for Corduroy and Monster at the End of the Book are books I still remember Mama reading to me. But my favorite childhood book is The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. I used to get so mad at that boy! Of course, I also got mad at Jackie Paper in the song Puff the Magic Dragon. Loyalty to friendship began at an early age with me.

And while we are talking about Shel Silverstein, my favorite book of poetry is Light in the Attic. See what I did there? I cleverly mentioned 4 books and now have more room in my list!

Okay, here are my top 15 favorite novels, in no particular order.

 1. Scarlett Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy
 2. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
 3. Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
 4. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
 5. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
 6. What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty
 7. Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
 8. Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
 9. Narnia Series by C.S. Lewis (No, I will NOT pick a favorite)
10. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
11. 3 Muskateers by Alexandre Dumas
12. Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
13. Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper
14. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
15. Little House in the Old Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder

I have read each of these multiple times (although Liane Moriarty's Alice is relatively new) and I still remember the first time I met them . The characters are summoned to my thoughts by real life events, and it makes me smile. When a new acquaintance mentions them, we are immediately bonded.

As for long time friends, well... I was in my early 20's when I first read Anne of Green Gables and I had already watched the movies. Rachel and I watched them together...a couple of times. I called Rachel to tell her I had just bought the first book at a used book store. Her reaction floored me. My reserved friend squealed and said "I'm so excited for you! You get to enter that world for the first time!"

Now, I have a slightly different question to ask you. What are the 5 books that are on your "Nightstand"? I don't mean your physical nightstand, the one by your bed. I mean your metaphorical one. What 5 books do you refer to often? Do you mention? Do you use in arguments?

Mine are Romancing the Ordinary by Sarah ban Breathnach; Present over Perfect by Shauna Niequist; The Shack by Wm. Paul Young; The Final Quest by Rick Joyner and The Bible by lots of people.

And yes, that's 5 more books that I didn't have to find space for in my list!

I'd love to hear yours, I'm always looking for new to me reads.

A Crappy Dinner Party for Epiphany

Luminaries lined the sidewalk and lit the stairs, the chatter of women filled my dining room, and crushed red peppers and cinnamon scented the air. My dinner party had begun.

As I looked for ways to celebrate Christmas in different ways this year, I embraced the 12 Days of Christmas. The final moment for me was this dinner party, several days after the busyness of the season. I invited a mixed group of women to celebrate a holiday most of them were unfamiliar with.

 Have you read How to Throw a Crappy Dinner Party (on purpose)? I recommend it. You see, the "flaw" in my plan was that my dinner party was on January 6 (Epiphany) after a full day of work, I worked 2 jobs on January 7, and I flew to Hawaii early on January 8. I really wanted to have this party, though, so embracing the "Crappy Dinner Party" philosophy seemed like the way to go. The philosophy is that you don't do anything extra, you just have friends over. You don't dress fancy, you don't decorate, you don't do extra cleaning. You just open your home and enjoy people.

Here's the thing I love about a "crappy dinner party", it's about fellowship not performance. I have signs in my house reminding me that "Life doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful" and "Live by Grace not Perfection," but I forget.  I love having people in my home, I love setting the scene, I'm a theater girl after all. The thing is, this party wasn't about everyone thinking I was a great party planner or a great decorator. It was about changing my Christmas expectations and sharing something beautiful with my friends. And the "beautiful thing" wasn't something that I created, it already existed.

Did I get all the Christmas decorations put away?

No.

But they are all stashed away in the guest bedroom.

Did I do extra cleaning beforehand?
No.
But I did sweep up all of the pine needles from my Christmas tree and load the dishwasher.

Did I run around doing last minute preparations?
No.
But I did do some prep work during "nap time" earlier that day, making sure the symbolic elements were ready.

Did I stress over details?

Yes, a little..

But a little less angst every time.

Did everything go as planned?

No.

But with this group, I could laugh at my mistakes.

Things I forgot:

• Kale for the Zuppa Tuscana. It was prepped, ready to go, in the refrigerator. I didn't remember it until one of my friends said, "Have you ever tried this soup with kale." She felt bad for asking when I told her why I was laughing. But I truly love that something so obvious slipped through the cracks. Just so you know, Zuppa Tuscana is yummy without kale. Also, my Epiphany table had not one vegetable on it.

• Silverware. No, really, I forgot the silverware. I have a set of nice silverware that I use whenever I have people over (mostly, so I know that I'll have enough silverware for everyone), and I couldn't find it. Then I started talking about not finding it. Then more people arrived. Then I never circled back around to it. Until we were all at the table. I managed to scrounge up enough spoons to eat with, and we moved on with the evening.

I didn't buy special plate settings, but I am blessed to have inherited Mama's 12 Days of Christmas plates and Mommom's white and silver china. The hodgepodge look works in my gypsy home, so I mixed and matched some magi from different nativities and "lit" the battery candles.

The meal was simple - oranges (symbolic of the gold brought by the magi), soup & bread, Wassail to drink (served in teapots - with bourbon if you wanted to add some flair), and a traditional French King Cake from Veloute` (local KC french catering company, check them out).

I think it was a beautiful evening full of laughter, chatter and fellowship. It was an Epiphany Kuier (check here to see what I mean by that word), my favorite kind of event.

Some of my favorite parts...

My friend Krissy came! She is, admittedly, a picky eater. She'll tell you that herself. This is how the conversation went:

Krissy: "I'm going to come to your party."
Me: "Yay!"
Krissy: "Can I bring anything?"
Me: "I don't think so"
Krissy: "Like food for me."
Me: "Oh right. Yeah, you should do that."

She is always so much fun, I'm so glad that she didn't let food stand in her way.

Do you see her hat? I found traditional British crackers on sale at The New Dime Store in Brookside. Each one had a joke, a fact, a toy and a crown - perfect to acknowledge the journey of the magi.

I love that I found a way to use some of my teapots. Also, do you see the clove studded oranges that keep popping up in the pictures? Mama and I used to make these every year and it was a fun, relaxing thing to do while I watched movies. I made them to represent the journey the magi made, but they smell really good if you leave them in a bowl or boil them on the stove, like the gifts of frankinsense and myrhh.

But my very favorite thing was the conversation that flowed through the meal and afterwards. I sat in my chair and talked, and listened to other people talk and saw my friends laughing or leaning in to really listen. It was beautiful.

At one point in the meal I interrupted the conversation to say, "Hey guys, I've got nothing else after this. Feel free to leave whenever you need to." Then the conversation continued. At one point after the meal I pulled out my suitcase and began to pack for Hawaii, while the conversation continued. And finally I said, "Okay, you gotta go I have stuff to do."

That's the sign of a good time, kicking people out at the end. ;)

The 12 Day experiment

I'm walking through this 12 Days of Christmas with a light touch, few expectations and an air of experimentation. Also, with determination to acknowledge all those little, beautiful things.

I traveled. Isn't that the perfect way to celebrate Epiphany? I would love to tell you that it was meaningfully thought out and purposefully executed, but that would be a lie. By happy accident, my work schedule had a chunk of time missing that was exactly right for me to hop in my car and make the drive to my family. I'll tell you though, I plan to do it again. Every time I see that sign that says, "Ellsinore 17" I get excited. Just about a 1/4 hour until I hug my Aunt and Uncle. And, technically I made 2 trips, because coming home is also a beautiful thing. Imagine the Magi seeing their home towns after tricking Herod and making it out of Israel without putting the Messiah in danger.

I did purposefully take down some of my Christmas decorations on New Year's Day. It was a slow, lazy day for me. I put on some movies and gathered things together at a leisurely pace. So leisurely, in fact, that much of it is still in piles in my dining room. My poor roommate, she accomplished the same thing in one day (including the dusting and vacuuming). Don't worry, I feel no shame. It's new for me to leave some of the things out, and I did another round of Marie Kondo-ing with the Christmas tree decorations as I put them away. I'm ok with this new pace.

Also, I embraced candlelight. In my early 20's I developed a bad reaction to candles (their scent, their smoke) and I haven't been able to burn them in my home. I was thinking how much I was going to miss the lights of my Christmas tree and how much I missed candlelight soaks in the bath. And I heard a little voice (it sounded a lot like my Aunt Robbie) telling me to stop being so silly. So, I took some of my Christmas money to the after Christmas sales (another benefit of celebrating the 12 days "after" Christmas) and stocked up on battery operated candles and batteries. I love coming from work to my home and "lighting" the candles. Yes to atmosphere and no to headaches and itchy eyes.

So, Santas are away, the tree is out on the curb. Nativities from around the world are still out and sharing space with all of the lovely candles. It's beginning to look like Epiphany (once I get those stacks packed away).

Finally, people are coming to my house to share a meal. Shauna Niequest has written a book (she's written several) that really expresses how important sharing a meal with people is. It's called Bread and Wine, and I found the collection of essays really heart awakening. Sharing food can  happen anywhere, it really can. For me, though, there is something very special about preparing food (be it ever so simple) for people I care about and welcoming them into my living space. So, I'm very excited about ending my Christmas celebration this year with a gathering of women around my table. I'm not stressing, things are going to be simple. The magis gifts were expensive and symbolic. My offering is simple and meaningful.

Travel, candlelight and fellowship, sounds like a beautiful new tradition doesn't it?

Karlie

The 12 Days of Christmas

Christmas is a magical and intensely lonely time. That's been my experience these last several years. Last year, newly divorced and still grieving the absence of my magical Mama in this season, I chose to go away. It was the right choice. I visited my Daddy in New Hampshire and had a whole slew of new experiences, including taking a walk on the beach on Christmas Day.

This year, my work schedule required me to be at home for most of the holidays. Although I didn't view that prospect with the same dread that I had last year, it was still daunting. My home, my life, my friends are all rich with Christmas traditions shared with 2 large personalities. How was I going to manage?

As I sorted through ornaments to put on my lovely White Fir Christmas Tree (my favorite kind because it doesn't poke as much) I realized that not every ornament was special. In fact, not every ornament was even to my liking. So, I started to sort through them. As I sorted, I asked myself "Do I like this ornament? Why do I have it? Will I miss it?" Those that I knew I wouldn't miss will be popping up in Thrift Stores near me next Christmas.

It's like I was Marie Kondo-ing my Christmas tree...

Which made me think about all of the Christmas traditions swirling around in my head, waiting for me to make the time for them. I wasn't feeling most of them. I decorated my home, because what former Stage Manager doesn't love setting the scene. I made Wassail all season long. I made Pecan Tarts for a few lucky people. And that's about it. I had done most of my holiday shopping in the end of season sales right before I left Juneau in September, and I didn't even spend much time wrapping this year.

Instead, I watched some Christmas movies (although fewer than last year) and listened to a lot of Christmas music. On Christmas morning I went to work and shared in the Christmas morning of several guests. After work I drove six hours to visit my family in SE Missouri and arrived to game night. In case you were wondering, my team lost huge in Pictionary and won large in Guesstures.

And this is where I come to my new Christmas perspective. I've always been touched by the celebration of Epiphany in Liturgical churches.I think that it is so fitting to set aside time to acknowledge the part of the Nativity story when we Gentiles enter. As a theater girl, I love how God sets the stage for our salvation - he is so thorough! I could go on and on about the lineage of Christ and how flawed, how human it is. But let's just focus on the fact that wise men of far flung cultures had studied the Hebrew scriptures and knew that a STAR was announcing the birth of the Messiah.

And then, they followed it! That's not the same as me driving down to family for Christmas Day, a quick 6 hour trip to a well known and well loved destination. They loaded up their camels, gathered their entourage, financed expensive gifts and followed a star to an UN-known place, people and situation.

And I love that the 12 days of Christmas, the actual days not the song, begins on Christmas Day with joy and ends on Epiphany with the manifestation of the Christ Child's Divinity. Because that's what Epiphany is, "A manifestation of a divine or supernatural being, The manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1-12)"

That is SO worth celebrating! And that is a tradition I decided to start this year, celebrating the 12 Days of Christmas. I'm coloring outside the lines and doing things my way. Paper bag luminaries are beginning to show up outside my house, a slew of battery operated candles decorate my mantle. I've taken down the Santas and left up the nativities. I've invited a group of women for an Epiphany Dinner Party and pre-ordered a traditional French King Cake from Veloute`(you should check them out, they're amazing).

I've got more to say about it all, but we are only 2/3 of the way through Epiphany. I'll save some for later! Until then,

Be Fruitful (YOUR way),
Karlie