to simplify.

a simple advent. that's all i want for christmas this year. oh and to get le boy's jumper (sweater) done in time. but how do we prepare? how to get it all done? the baking and the making and the visits and the work and the decorating and the events? how do we keep the event of jesus coming to earth as the central idea of our days? how to keep from becoming caught up in the busy-ness of it all and forget the business of christ?

by stopping. and stilling. by bending low and thanking god for humble beginnings and babe-grace. by putting the needs of others ahead of our own. by focusing on the truest thing we can, the sacrifice of praise for he who would sacrifice it all.

this year we have chosen to remain in one place. and we are delighted at the prospect of standing still. for years we have each travelled, across land and seas to be home with our families, and those are times we cherish and times, i'm sure we will miss this christmas. but we are also learning how to be our own family. to establish and develop our own traditions.

it's slow around here at the moment. a joint stiff with swelling and pain, and a girl who is always eager to do one more thing can be a challenging combination. i am learning. i am preparing for a season of slowness. of incremental progress, measured by the degrees i can bend my knee. of being patient and pacing myself. of learning how to pace my days, rather than fill them to the absolute brim.

trees will be trimmed this weekend, rows upon rows of double moss stitch knitted, and we will begin our advent study. in the midst of it all, i pray we prepare not just our home, but our hearts for the coming of christ.

preparation.

i wrote a little about preparing the other week. i am grateful to have had the time to ready us for the operation. it all went smoothly and life here, while quiet, is very peaceful because of those preparations. i rest easy knowing there is food is the freezer and wool ready for the needles and period dramas queued for watching. i rested easy because marvellous came and gave up her week to love on us and care for us. i am amazed by the endless stream of visitors we have had, who take time out of their busy weeks to travel to a small suburb in london so that i may have company. we are filled with visits and doctors appointments and naps. and yet despite all this preparation. despite the prayers and cooking and the finishing up of things and the emails and people from abroad. we weren't quite ready. and i suppose we never are. 

change, big or small, demands attention and time and energy. and there are always bits for which you are not prepared. the pain. or the feelings of being unwell. the kindness that has been shown you. the unexpected care packages. i was not prepared for any of these things. and yet, in his grace, we are given what we need, as we need it. and so the medication does a great job of numbing the physical pain and the care package takes away the sting of separation from family. i am learning to ask for and receive help. i am learning to allow others. to count my thanks. to be patient. to heal.

we are never completely prepared. we cannot be. there would be no painful healing, no growth, no unexpected delight.

"Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me. And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; and the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight, behold, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. Malachi 3:1

quiet.

we're pretty quiet around these parts these days. warms drinks and food. enjoying the relief of the pain medication. lots of ice packs. naps in the morning, afternoon and evening. welcome visitors bearing gifts of food and wishes of speedy recoveries. this recuperation thing is exhausting. i'm grateful beyond words for the kind care of le boy and marvellous. i spend much of my day in a room with a small print of 1 thess 5:18 it's a very good reminder.

we're moving slowly. and we are living grateful lives.

operation: preparation

we have grace of time right now. we have the grace of knowing what is coming next. we have been allowed to prepare.

in a week i will benefit from decades of research and medicine, i will have medicine repair what cannot heal naturally. my knee, injured in a skiing accident, has kept me much more sedate than i would prefer. i long to run hard and fast (for me) along the pavement. i long to sit cross-legged on the floor. i will, in time. i will have surgery to repair what cannot be healed all on its own. ligaments do not naturally heal. but they can be healed with invasive and intense surgery.

isn't that what god does on us? there are parts of us that cannot be healed with just time, or tenderness. there are parts of us that require much more. so while we favour that part of ourselves, learn to protect it from harm, learn to not sit cross-legged, it never actually heals, it cannot heal on its own. and we require god-surgery. on our souls.

i said that god has given us the gracious gift of time. i go in for surgery in a week, but we've known about this for months, we've known about the long recovery. we've been able to make provisions for that time. marvellous is offering up herself to us that week - we are humbled by her willingness to leave life and come walk with us through the early stages of healing. the slowcooker is working overtime as i prepare meals to be frozen, and i get the house in order. le boy is making minor adjustments to our living space that will make major adjustments to my (our) quality of life. our friends are praying and planning for food and company. we have been provided time to prepare. 

and god gives us this time before be have soul surgery also. he allows us time to clear our schedules and simplify our lives. to prepare for the healing. for the recovery. years ago, before i spent time sorting through who i was called to be, god made space. a job that allowed me time off for appointments, a friend to live with who was supportive, an income that provided. i trained a marathon that year. i was broken of all my defences. and because i no longer could shield the parts of me that i protected, i handed them to him and he was merciful. 

he is always gracious. and he has provided for preparation. 

day in autumn:: {november}

it is hard to believe that november is upon us. an aunt of mine once decided to take the month as it came, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired. there is something about november that can be draining. maybe it's the quickening darkness? that in the northern hemisphere we're plunged into winter?

here we're preparing for what i've affectionately called my 'planned convalescence'  it's rather strange to know you're about to be laid up for many weeks. i'm trying to get in all i can while i've got the chance. to rest and prepare my body for healing. to prepare our house for a period of quietness. wool has been ordered. marvellous is coming over. the lovefilm queue has been updated. i'm stocking the freezer. and piling up the books.

::intentions for november::

• leave an extra 15 minutes for getting ready in the morning (stop the rush!) 
• take this month just as it comes
• be gentle with myself in the lead up to and after the surgery
• exercise every day until nov 17
• drink 2+ liters a day of water - the heating in my office has been turned on, bad news for the skin!

 

 

Day in Autumn

By Rainer Maria Rilke 1875–1926
 

Translated By Mary Kinzie  

After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time

to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials

and in the pastures let the rough winds fly.

As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.

Direct on them two days of warmer light

to hale them golden toward their term, and harry

the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.

Whoever's homeless now, will build no shelter;

who lives alone will live indefinitely so,

waking up to read a little, draft long letters,   

and, along the city's avenues,

fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.