faith fridays: what hope looks like

The other day, I found out what hope looks like. It seemed powerful, yes bright enough, to share. You might know someone like I do; someone who is beginning to wonder if hope exists, who insists that the glimmer of light beyond the bend may not even exist.

At the point at which this dear person began to see a glimmer of something, I became determined to help her grasp hard onto that glimmer. I wanted to help her keep that hope clearly in her sights. So I asked her to come up with a list of things to look forward to, things that could keep her moving toward the glimmer, things to remember in moments when hope seems, again, in short supply.

Keep in mind, the person of whom I speak is young with much life ahead, so the list will reflect that. She is talented and worthy of so many things, but she's barely begun to explore her capabilities because other forces have been in the way. I know that those obstacles won't disappear overnight. This is a process. But...it seems to me, as I look at friends with cancer and other huge roadblocks in their lives, if we can't keep fixed on hope, what else is there? Seeing around the bend, even when we know we can't be THERE yet, is essential to our emotional, mental and spiritual health.

So, here's what hope looks like to a young gal that I'm intent on helping seeing through to that place around the bend:

- Get my driver's license
- Get a job
- Get a car
- Graduate high school
- Go to college for four years
- Become an elementary school teacher
- Find someone who loves me, my family and God as much as I do
- Have three children
- Read one book per week for a whole year straight
- Receive a scholarship to the school of my dreams (which I have yet to dream up)
- Go to the abortion mill to pray every single Wednesday this summer
- Inspire someone
- Be in a musical
- Help someone who's going through a rough time in their life
- Go to Mass every Sunday without complaining
- Ride a horse, sidesaddle
- Travel the world
- Learn a new language
- Stand up for what I believe in
- Witness a miracle
- Live to be a grandmother

Q4U: What do you most hope for right now?

writing wednesdays: stuff and stuff

If you didn't hear my brother-in-law play Silent Night on his I-phone during our family Christmas concert yet, you must visit yesterday's post first.

For those wishing to read my latest column about dealing with the stuff that proliferates on a daily basis in our lives, head on over to Peace Garden Writer!

Here's wishing you've all had the merriest of Christmases, with hopes of a very Happy and Writing-Full New Year!

mama mondays: family christmas concert

Okay, so it's not really Monday. Monday sort of slipped away in the post-Christmas haze. Which is why I'm trying to recapture it. 

This post is really for the music lovers, especially those who don't mind a few flaws here and there. Below are bits of the concert our family participated in and enjoyed in my grandmother's living room Christmas evening. It includes some, but not all, of the performances carried out by my sister Camille's and my children, along with a few extras from the adults. Please forgive the rather blooper-filled duet that the two of us sang. The last time we performed this together for an audience was over 20 years ago.

Links will bring you to a 6-year-old on harmonica, 11-year-old on clarinet, 12- and 14-year-old on piano, 16-year-old on baritone, two old gals singing, and a special performance of Silent Night on an Iphone that you won't want to miss. Turn up the sound and hear the amalgamation of music and technology at its finest by my brother-in-law Chris, who doubles as a high-school music teacher.

Christmas blessings to all! It's not over yet -- not until Epiphany, and not even then for those of us with hope in our hearts.

Enjoy!

Christmas eve special

Greetings, dear readers of Peace Garden Mama!

On this beautiful Christmas Eve, I'm happy to share a link to an article I wrote for our local daily newspaper, The Forum. The article details the journey of two local women to the Holy Land. Enjoy!

And from our family to yours, have a very Merry Christmas!

faith fridays: no longer taking Christ for granted

It's been a rich Advent for me; an Advent that will end very soon now as we make way for the illuminating Christ. 

One of the deepest revelations I've had these past weeks is how much I've taken this Christ thing for granted in my 43 years as a Christian. It is my fervent hope that from here on out I will never again fail to realize just how precious this faith of ours truly is.

There have been a few things that have led to this clarity. One has been listening to a friend describe her trip to the Holy Land and how beautiful but volatile the area is; how religious affiliations are posted on passports and could be the deciding factor on whether you make it back home, or finish college, or see your best friend again. 

And then there have been things I've come across, like this article about the situation in North Korea from a Christian perspective. I've been blind to the atrocities, I'm afraid, yet many are suffering under an oppressive regime. In such a regime, there is no room for God, not to mention Christ.

In this article from Crosswalk.com, a work of university professor William Cavanaugh, Migrations of the Holy: God, State, and the Political Meaning of the Church, is referenced. Cavanaugh explains the dangers of a government that absorbs its society into itself. North Korea, the reporter notes, is a picture of what happens when the state is full-grown and controls everything.

According to the article, Cavanuagh explains that in healthy societies, churches, voluntary organizations, political parties, and family are all intermediate associations that serve as buffers between the individual and the raw power of the state. "North Korea has eliminated all but the family. Yet even in the family, how much trust can there be if you can go to a concentration camp for something stupid your relative says or does? Better to disassociate even from family and trust no one."

Imagine living in an environment in which you must disassociate from everyone dear to you in order to survive. There is no life in that that I can see. 

Cavanaugh also points out that in North Korea, politics and economics are one. "...the state is deified, Caesar is God, and human freedom and dignity are crushed." Meanwhile, the "dear leader" is getting drunk on liquor that costs hundreds of dollars a bottle. (How else can he live with himself, after all?)

So what does this have to do with Christ? Everything. For, as the article points out, "Advent reminds us of the coming of the eternal King who is Truth and in whom there is no shadow of falsehood. He came once in humility to shame the powerful in their lies. He comes today to rule over his people and to set us free with his Truth."

Most of us have no idea how fortunate we are through our ability to embrace our God and live in the light of truth and love. When you are celebrating with your families this Christmas, I hope you will be mindful, as I am now, that being with family, no matter how imperfect they might be, is a supreme blessing. Welcoming and worshiping our Lord Jesus Christ with them? There's nothing sweeter nor more important.

During his Wednesday address, the Pope said:

"Dear brothers and sisters, let us joyously live the feast of Christmas, which now draws near. Let us live this wondrous event: The Son of God again is born "today"; God is truly close to each one of us, and He wants to meet us -- He wants to bring us to Himself. He is the true light, which dispels and dissolves the darkness enveloping our lives and mankind. Let us live the Lord's birth by contemplating the path of God's immense love, which raised us to Himself through the mystery of the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of His Son, for -- as St. Augustine affirms -- "In [Christ] the divinity of the Only Begotten was made a partaker of our mortality, so that we might be made partakers of His immortality" (Letter 187,6,20: PL 33: 839-840)."

Jesus is coming! Don't miss the significance of the arrival of this tiny babe. And please, if at all possible, have the merriest of Christmases!

writing wednesdays: what's blue, cozy and practical?

Here's a hint: it's not fuzzy blue slippers, nor a warm robe with blue paint stains all over it.

So what is it?

If you've been hanging out here long enough to know that Wednesdays on Peace Garden Mama are all about teasing, then you already know the drill. Yep, I'm over at the usual mid-week spot today, Peace Garden Writer. If you didn't know already (but do now), then what are you waiting for?

Or, you could stay here and just keep guessing. :) But that will get old, won't it? See you soon, I hope!

mama mondays: four-candle fever (weekend recap for Santa)

Grandma Bev and Adam readying for dinner by Advent candlelight

Dear Santa, 

I need to begin this letter by stating this upfront: I have been a good girl. By that I mean I have truly immersed myself in the season of Advent. I have not rushed the stage, so to speak, as I've been wont to do in the past. Though every Christmas season is different, in recent years I've learned what makes for a truly blessed celebration. Oh, it's taken a while, and many lessons along the way, but I get it now, Santa. It really is about letting the quiet take hold and reflecting on the beautiful gift we're about to witness.  

But I haven't been perfect. This weekend, I'll admit, I let loose just a little. I think it was that fourth candle that did it, Santa. The FOURTH CANDLE! You realize what this means. And Santa, I've held back for so long that I allowed myself a little pre-Christmas celebrating this weekend. But hear me out. I think you'll approve.

One of my favorite moments of the weekend was when my sweet mother-in-law and I took the girls out for coffee. Boy, did we need that little java break! When the girls walked over to the blackboard and read all of the "What's your favorite holiday tradition" remarks, and added their own, well, I just felt an injection of the warm fuzzies. It was one of those moments I'll treasure for lots of special little reasons.

This was so fun, too, Santa, when our Nick, your namesake, donned the old St. Nick headgear. He wears it almost as well as you do, my fine friend.

And this was a great moment as well...a girl, a laptop and a cat. (Ahem, let's not forget those furry boots. What more needs to be said except to thank Grandma Bev for her photo work?)

As you well know, Santa, part of our weekend required celebration. I mean, how can I not rejoice over the golden birthday of my firstborn son? Look at him here, just a decade ago, though it seems like yesterday. He was so excited to have his birthday at Space Aliens with his friends. (Oh my, I did look festive in my alien-ears headband, didn't I?). 

And here he is now...wow. I just can't believe he's this big. I mean, he's really more man than boy now by the looks of it. It seemed so far off just a short while ago.

The celebrating didn't really stop for long this weekend. The impromptu concert the kids put on just before their grandparents headed out was so unexpected, and so lovely! How could a mama not feel deeply blessed by such sweet music?

Thankfully we had a chance to quiet down, just long enough to take part in a little celebration we've come to know as the Joy Bag, courtesy of our first-grader. (See post on a past Joy Bag event for more...). It was beautiful; truly it was. And as you know (because you see all) we ended it by opening some gifts early. It was our daughter's suggestion (the gifts were from her) and seemed like the right thing to do. I can't help but giggle remembering what a hit the "noise putty" was, and how much fun the boys had making "farting" sounds with the putty. (*sigh)  Laughter really is the best medicine, and we had quite a bit of that erupting through the house this weekend.

So Santa, we did let that fourth candle get to us. But I think this is how it was supposed to be. It was a really good weekend, and despite the festive mood, I'm still holding fast to what it's all about. Truth be told, I don't need much else for Christmas.

Well, there is that one thing...but I can wait.

See you soon, Santa. I'll be up watching for you, waiting with the coffee for you and the sugar cubes for the reindeer, just like when I was a little girl. Safe travels. It might be rough-landing on the snow-less landscape this year, but I trust you've maneuvered your way through all kinds of scenarios and will handle it as well as always.

Love,

Roxane

P.S. If you want to hear our little guy playing just a wee bit of "Spirit of the Radio" by Rush as you're getting ready to load up your sleigh, go here. He's just starting out but we're impressed by how quickly he's catching on. Maybe this will help you feel more confident the musical gift he's requested is the right fit.

faith fridays: the golden fish (a conversion story)

I've recently become familiar with the work and life of Eric Metaxas, a father, husband and Yale graduate perhaps best known in the world of Christian parenting for his award-winning Veggie Tales stories. But Metaxas is much more than a cartoon-character creator and humorist. He's also the author of some serious and best-selling books, including his latest, a biography on Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- pastor, spy and martyr. Bonhoeffer played a part in the so-called Valkyrie plot to kill Hitler, which failed.

I interviewed Metaxas by phone from Seattle, where he was doing some work before heading back to his New York City residence. He'll be speaking in our area in March, so I had the privilege of picking his brain a bit to help introduce him to our community. When I asked him what drives him, he credited his faith, but also admitted to many "rudderless" years earlier in his life. Groundwork for faith had been evident during his German-Greek Orthodox childhood, but he'd mostly renounced the possibility of God as an enlightened college student. 

In his mid-20s, Metaxas had begun looking for answers to life's biggest questions and came upon various theories, including Carl Jung's idea of the collective unconsciousness to define God. Around that time his uncle became ill and fell into a coma. When a friend offered prayers, Metaxas was taken aback, moved by the thought that some people actually believed there was a God who cared enough to listen to earthly concerns. When his friend suggested they pray together, he said yes, surprising himself, and in that conversation, he felt an interior shift. Shortly thereafter, he had a dream that changed everything, as he explains in an online video of his conversion.

Several elements merged in the dream; the symbolism of his Greek Orthodox heritage, his love of fishing and his own intellectual ideas melding Jung and Freud. In his waking hours, he'd imagined a frozen lake with the ice being the conscious mind and the water beneath being the unconscious mind, or God. He'd concluded that the goal of life was for the two to have some kind of conversation, and that one should strive to drill a hole into the ice to get at the moving water below.

In his dream he was standing on a frozen lake ice-fishing. He recalls glorious sunshine and brilliant blue sky. He looked down and saw a fish coming up through the fishing hole, so he leaned down and picked it up by the gill. It was a golden fish -- like in a fairytale -- a miracle, he said.

And suddenly, he recognized that the fish was Christ and that God was speaking to him through the dream. "I realized, it's true. Jesus is real and I have him, I'm holding him," he recounted, "and I'm flooded with joy because I realized God used my own symbol system to sort of one-up me, to blow my mind, because all I wanted to do was reach through the ice and touch this inert water, and God is saying, 'No, I have something more for you. I have my son, Jesus Christ, and He's a living person. He's alive.'"

Ever since hearing this story, I can't get it out of my mind. Perhaps it's my propensity toward visual learning, combined with my own love of fishing and fond childhood memories of ice-fishing in particular. I can't help but wonder what ways Christ may be pushing up through the ice of my life to draw me toward the living water.

I commented at my faith-sharing group the other day, on the Feast of St. Lucy, how much in the dark we are in this life; that there is so much we can't see and know right now. I see Metaxas' symbol of the frozen lake as the visible of our lives, and the water beneath as all that is invisible now, but that we'll see someday. I also believe we're given glimpses of this living water during our earthly journey but not the ability to fully immerse in it.

Conversion stories invigorate me, and even though this isn't a Catholic conversion story, it won't be the first time I've been deeply moved by the example of a fellow Protestant sister or brother in Christ. A recent newspaper article I wrote about a fellow faith mother and blogging friend inspired me plenty. I hope it will have the same effect on you. Here it is.

Also, if you're interested: Metaxas' conversion story in his own words.

Q4U: Advent is as much about conversion as anything else, it seems to me. What about conversion is most inspiring to you?

thursday special: newspaper profile

I don't post on Thursdays...unless something extra-special is going on.

Today, a profile I wrote for the SheSays section of The Forum newspaper is up! I met Vicky Westra a little over a year ago -- through blogging -- and have been blessed by our crossing. In March, she was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer, but she hasn't let that stop her from living. And now I have the honor of sharing some of her story (much of it through her words) with you.

I'm so grateful to Vicky for the thoughtful chat that led to this story, as well as for her husband, Rick, for his contribution! You inspire me through how you live your life, Vicky, and I'm privileged to be even a small part of your journey. :)

Enjoy...

writing wednesdays: shhhh....

I hear something. It's the sound of a book giveaway winner being announced. Perfect for Christmas break settling-in!

And there's something else. Do you hear it as well? If not, head over the Peace Garden Writer to see what's up!

See Hear you over there!

PGM

mama mondays: numbers and words

This first one is courtesy of my husband. Apparently our 6-year-old came home with a piece of paper, and on said paper, a phone number...from a girl. Seems she thought he should have her number.

"But what I want to know," Troy said, "is, Is she cute?" To which small son blushed and nodded.

Oh boy. What's next? A little black book so he can record all the phone numbers he's collecting?

In more weekend news, my sister wrote to share one of her pre-Christmas frustrations; namely, the question, "So, are you ready for Christmas?"

"Yes, my heart is ready," she explained, "but no, my house...shopping...baking...are not ready." It's been 25 years or so since my sis and I shared the same space for any great length of time, but there are some things about which we are still very much in sync. My Facebook status update this week said virtually the same thing.

So my question is, Can we slow this train down just a little?

Actually, it was Gaudete Sunday yesterday, which means...the train is accelerating whether we want it to or not. And that's not all bad. I think I'm having a hard time believing Christmas is coming because...well, there is absolutely NO snow on the ground, and it reached 43 degrees today in Fargo, one of the coldest cities in the country.

I did make it out to the Shanley High School choir concert tonight. It's always a beautiful event, headed up by the talented Rebecca Raber, and definitely gets my head in the right place about the season we're in.

A couple Fridays back Mrs. Raber asked if I could write a poem to be used in the concert. I told her I could try, with the condition that if it didn't work, she wouldn't be obligated to use it. I'm pleased she was able to work a couple stanzas of it into the final piece. They were read at the very end of "Silent Night," in the candle-lit sanctuary of our church, while the choir sung "oooos." For your Advent pleasure, I hereby present the poem in its entirety. I hope you enjoy!

Contradictory Emergence

 

Oh grace-filled night, oh star-lit sea
Consider the sweet dichotomy
That He would enter the world at night
This precious babe, our Lord of light

Expectations turned upside-down
A tiny cry to announce the crown
His strong right arm they waited to see
Instead, soft limb waved gently

A kingly mansion, dwelling of awe
Evolves into a bed of straw
Crowds and confetti, echoing cheers
Replaced by simplicity, joy-filled tears

Quiet evening, holy solution
Birth that would start a revolution
The mighty lion lay down with the lamb
A paradoxically thought-up plan

Gentle babe, devoid of sin
Diminutive size to draw us in
God knew the scandal you would bring
Oh tiny leader, peace-filled king

Our Lord is a Lord of contradiction
Prompt of subversive opposition
Teacher of power by humility
Divinity one with humanity

Silent night, ignite our souls
Renew our vision, warm the cold
Through star-speckled eve of illumination
Blessed heavenly anticipation

- Roxane B. Salonen

faith fridays: meeting God in the silence of advent

We're coming up on the third week of Advent. It's nearly time for the pink candle! Which means that by now, if we're doing Advent right, we should have met God a time or two in the silence of this season.

What I don't mean by that is that there is a perfect way to do Advent. Not at all! What I do mean is that this season is for us! It was created for us so that we might pull back long enough to reflect on what's coming. And what's coming is no small thing, even if He was packaged that way at the entrance.

This week during my show on Real Presence Radio, I had the honor of doing an hour-long segment on Advent with a local priest and another regular guest. Both will be involved in heading up a silent, Ignatian retreat in the coming months. Even though it's a ways off, the retreat seemed a natural fit for a talk on Advent, when quiet becomes a necessity if we're to meet God and hear what it is that He's trying to tell us.

"But aren't most people scared of silence or pulling away to be quiet?" I asked the priest. The answer I got in return: Yes, this is often the case, but if they knew they were not going to be alone with themselves, and instead were going to hang out with God, they might approach it differently.

Indeed! Though I've become more comfortable with silence -- and often crave it -- in recent years, I can understand the propensity of some to run the other way when presented with an opportunity to quiet down, to just...listen.

Following through on my question about the fear of silence that many people have, Rachelle, promoter of the retreat, said, "You can't believe how much God talks when you give Him the chance!"

In other words, we need not be fearful of the quiet. As the priest also noted, "It's again that difference between loneliness and solitude."

Loneliness is when we are alone, in the dark all by ourselves. Like a scared child at night who has not yet learned to tap into the antidote to the bogeyman's powers -- God -- we flee to our parents' bedroom and hope they might have a soft word to share, or a soft space in the middle for us to rest if we're really lucky.

But solitude is something else entirely. In solitude, we are not alone. God is with us, and God is big enough to fill all of the dark spaces that encircle us on a daily basis if we but shift our position just a bit and make room for Him.

And here's the even better news. Even though retreats are amazing and we should all experience them on occasion (they are just plain good for the soul), we can find this solitude, this quiet reserved for a conversation with God, wherever we are. For example, I started out my week (after dropping off the kids at school) on my bed with a book of Scripture readings. I read some of them and asked God to be with me in the week ahead. I opened my heart to make room for Him. I've felt Him with me every day of the week and I know that this orienting myself to God played no small part in that.

Q4U: Where was your favorite quiet "space" this week? How did you prepare for it? What did it feel like to spend some time there?

writing wednesdays: what emily dickinson ate

You do want to know, right?

I'll give you just one hint:

Give up? Well then, guess you'll have to find out on today's Peace Garden Writer. See you there!

mama mondays: advent events: lavish or luminous?

Snippet of  mural backdrop for 2011 Concordia College Christmas Concert

This weekend I received a beautiful Advent surprise when my dear mother-in-law -- the woman with whom I share the gift and joy of singing -- called to say it might be my lucky day. Someone in her bus tour that was to visit our city to take in the highly-regarded Concordia College Christmas Concert had fallen ill and offered her the extra ticket. Would I by any chance be available? By divine hand, to be sure, my schedule was clear during the time of the concert. Weeee!

So off I went to take in this breathtaking event for the second year in a row. It was one more occasion to help prepare my heart for the joyous season that awaits.

Depiction of The Peaceable Kingdom by mural artist Paul Johnson

Artist Paul Johnson's rendition of the journey to Bethlehem

These glimpses of the program are all I can share with you of my afternoon, since photography wasn't permitted of the concert itself. At the very least, you can glean from these images the whimsical feel the artist who painted the background mural was going for.

I could gush for the rest of the post about the five choirs, orchestra, three conductors and two narrators who overwhelmed me (in a very good way) to the point of tears with this presentation.  But such a post would be unfair. One, I can't do it justice, and two, another related matter has come to my attention that seems more worthy of my purposes here.

The gist of the issue: perspective, and how it can differ from one person to the next. When I was younger, I loved mushrooms (as I do to this day). I found them to be juicy and succulent. My sister, on the other hand, deemed them slimy and bland. Same food item, different perspective.

So back again to Advent. A family friend attended the very same concert as my MIL, her friend and I, but his reaction contrasted my own. Though he did call it a thrilling event, he added that it likely was not the kind of birthday gift Christ would most appreciate. I'm guessing he found it too lavish for Jesus' tastes.

Similarly, I'd shared my Advent post from last week with this same person, and rather than ingesting what I had tried to convey through my post -- the simplicity and beauty of the Advent season -- he remarked in an email that he was "disappointed" in the post and said that from what I shared, it looked to be a very "posh" celebration focusing on "the good life with abundant food, exquisite table settings and family joys." He added that the overemphasis on one's immediate family does not honor the Gospel of Jesus Christ since his own family connects were overshadowed by concern for the suffering humanity.

As I chewed on how to respond, I realized my thoughts might be worthy to share with you readers today.

Firstly, he didn't attend any of the events I wrote about so was at a disadvantage. But if the intent of my post was missed, I think it's important to clarify.

What moved me most about all of these events were the very things he thought were missing: simplicity, beauty, humility, hope, love, and joy at the thought of Christ coming into our world and what that would mean. I don't know what could get more humble and beautiful at this time of year than tiny dancers and singers gracing the altar and space of a church called Nativity.

As for the other two events put on by the Mothers and Children groups, perhaps the desserts and table settings seemed posh to the outsider, but let me assure you, the perceived "extravagance" was only a ruse -- an excuse for us to get together in order that we might return to a mindset of simplicity. I can't imagine that gathering to listen to Advent reflections and songs focusing on the most profound and humble of stories -- the Annunciation -- in order to ponder the coming of the Christ child in our own hearts could offend God.

A few more bullet points to consider:

* Women have a natural propensity for serving others. In the right circumstances, our hearts dance to be able to do for others. Yes, it's a sacrifice to prepare a table and bring to it our special flair and beauty. It's a sacrifice to stay up to the wee hours of the night baking a cake that was looking to come out all wrong, as my table host and busy mother of two confessed. But the end result and how it filled our hearts with hope was worth it.

* As such, we need to fill back up if we're to do the giving we truly want to do. Just as we're inclined to serve, so are we inclined to give away too much of ourselves. Most every woman I know is guilty as charged. The Advent events put on by the mothers gave those invited a chance to be rejuvenated in order to give more with joy.

* I'm concerned by the thought that paying attention to our families first and foremost might be seen as a negative. If we don't focus first on our families and building up the future generation, we are in a boatload of trouble. Thank God there are families who turn inward first so that their children can grow up to be healthy adults; adults who learned first through their nuclear families how to be generous. Mother Teresa espoused the idea that we cannot do great things, only things with great love, and that serving the needy in our midst -- oftentimes those right in front of us -- is where we must begin. What would happen if all the mothers in the world got up and left their homes right now, abandoned their families, in order to feed the poor when their own children are hungry -- not only for food but spiritual nourishment? What if women quit having children because they were too consumed with helping others? The world would cease to exist.

Sometimes it takes a contrary opinion to help me go deep with my thoughts, and for that, I thank the family friend who reached out to tell me how offended by my post he was. I remain grateful and gratified by these Advent surprises and the love that is brewing in my heart because of them; warm and joyful feelings I will now offer back to others in the days ahead.

Q4U: What will you do for and with your family this Advent and Christmas season to fill up enough to go out and share what Christ came to teach us?

faith fridays: what advent means to me

What does Advent mean to me? Oh, let me count thy ways it lights up my life!

This is my absolute favorite time of the Church year. It is the beautiful build-up to one of the most monumental events in history, not just to the faithful but to the secular world as well (the evidence of Jesus' existence and impact is woven throughout our world in myriad ways even if we hardly recognize them because they are so ingrained).

But just as the season itself is a build-up, it's taken me my whole life to truly appreciate the meaning of Advent and learn some fruitful ways of approaching the season.

Turning to simplicity is a start: the simple act of lighting one purple candle and watching it glow. What a rush that brings to me now each and every time! That light is powerful; a beginning of something utterly astounding: God entering our human world so that we might get to know Him and understand better how to love. (wow!)

I have to admit, though, that certain events in recent years have helped me more fully immerse myself in this place of beauty, peace, restfulness, calm anticipation.

Last year was my first Advent celebration by candlelight for women at a local parish. The evening included beautifully decorated tables, all individually designed by table hosts, along with coffee and dessert, lots of happy womanly chatter, music and a talk on Advent. I was there as the speaker then and had the honor of helping to dedicate the evening to my friend Roberta, founder of the group and fellow mother of five who had left our world a few weeks prior. This year, I returned not as a speaker but a guest at one of the tables. And oh, was that a lovely experience!

 

I went to the wrong table at first, passing by one bearing a tempting red-velvet cake. I drooled over it -- one of my favorites -- and thought how lucky those women were to get to sample that. A short while later I found out that was my table after all. The baker added some lemon rind to the frosting to give it just a hint of citrus loveliness. 

The would have started my Advent off right and well, but the very next night another local parish put on a similar event, modeled after the first, and asked a friend and I and a pianist (also a friend) to do the music. One of the songs we sang was a duet, "To My Surprise," which is really a conversation between Mary and Elizabeth. We felt honored to be part of this special gathering of women.

And then last night our Catholic elementary school presented its annual Advent program. My good friend Katie is the choreographer, and I am always utterly impressed by the grace she coaxes out of the little dancers. Here's a sampling of the final song (love those sweet voices):

And here are the first-graders doing one of their numbers, my youngest son among them. They are so wiggly and precious!

Speaking of first-graders, the Joy Bag will make an appearance at our home soon. Here's a preview from a couple years ago.

This...is what Advent has come to mean to me. Joy-filled celebrations, light in the darkness, hopeful expectation, surprises, warmth, love, peace. I start out the season with these events filling up my mind and heart and then try my hardest to carry the feeling that emanates from these to me into the rest of the days; all leading up to the biggest-event yet.

To me, Christmas would be a fairly meaningless holiday without Advent, just as Easter would not be nearly as powerful without Lent. In the life of the Church, these festivities are all part of the whole. And they add a depth to my life for which I am truly grateful.

One more video (here), and this one you won't want to sidestep. In a mere two minutes it says everything Advent should be in a way that makes me even more excited to breathe it all in!

Q4U: What is your favorite Advent memory?