cooking · faith · family · food · Orthodoxy · parenting · play · seasons

Glorify Him!

I am standing in my kitchen cooking up a storm.  The presents are all wrapped.  Kiddos are watching Christmas movies and singing Christmas carols.  The house smells amazing.  We made it!  We made it to Christmas Eve, and every year I am amazed.

After a lack luster first few weeks, I have found my Christmas spirit.  The days of humbug made me appreciate traditions.  When I was less than enthusiastic about the season I still had our family traditions to keep me from missing Christmas. And as we kept the traditions I slowly found my groove.

Mamas have this wonderful gift…we can make Christmas amazing for our families in the little things we do, in the smile we wear, in the tune we hum, in the giggles, and snuggles, and the sugary treats.  A mom has this energy, and it is infectious.  Food and festivities.  I love serving up scrumptious dishes with a side of I love you.

Christmas is a time of hospitality for me.  As I clean, shop, cook, wrap, and prepare I try to invite a spirit of comfort and warmth into our home.  I have found that the warmth comes from my heart and not in orchestrating a perfect Christmas.  I just love my family and friends.  

Christ is coming, along with friends and family.  We are family.  May our homes and hearts make a place for the Savior, and may we welcome everyone with warmth and joy.

Christ is Born…Glorify Him!

I glory in His presence, He has brought tidings of great comfort and joy.  Christ is in our midst  He is and ever shall be.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

On the Menu
Dinner
Honey Glazed Ham
Mashed Potatoes
Almond Green Beans
Salad 
Yeast Rolls
Tea
Desserts
Martha Washington Candies
Pecan Pralines
Almond Toffee
Craisin and White Chocolate Cookies
Ranger Cookies
faith · family · learning · motherhood · Orthodoxy · parenting · saints

I Forgot

Tonight, after the Christmas tree went up and the children went down I slipped into my PJ’s and was looking forward to some quiet and a piece of cherry cheesecake.  I walked down the hall, headed for the kitchen and feeling the relief that comes after a long day when I noticed a silhouette… somebody was out of bed.  I sighed.  It was Caroline, and she gently whispered to me, “Mama, we forgot my name’s day.”  My eyes were not able to make out the details of her face.  I hate looking at disappointment on my children’s faces.  I was glad it was dark.

These days I feel as if I am barely scraping by, doing just enough to keep things from sinking…not much more.  I have not been in the festive mood, and when I admitted this to my husband this evening he agreed and said that he had noticed.  After a long week away from home after Thanksgiving, I feel as if I cannot catch up.  In truth, I have done very little.  I just feel tired.  But, more than that I feel as if I cannot find my way.  I am out of sync with myself.

I used to get up every morning and have a quiet time in prayer and scripture reading.  I have not done that in months.  The reason… I cannot seem to get anything on a schedule.  The time that I used to reserve in the early morning is now taken by a nursing baby.  And this is good, but I cannot help feeling like I am capable of more.  Can’t I nurse and pray?  I know the advice, just pray while you nurse…offer to God what you can…this is a wonderful season.  All of that is true, very true.  However, rhythm is something I crave.  Prayer is rhythm, the Church calendar is rhythm, it is a spiritual cadence, and when I am out of sync with the Church, I feel empty.

I tried to fast, and within the first week of the Nativity fast I saw a real decrease in my milk production.  This stresses me.  Not because I feel like a failure, but because I feel the loss when I cannot/will not fully participate.  After participating in the Church, what the world has to offer during the Christmas season feels empty. I discussed this with the girls not long ago.  When Tradition was abandoned, a very shallow way of feasting replaced the life giving revelation of the Church.  I enjoy the cultural aspects of Christmas, but not in the absence of the Church.

So many things are contributing to this feeling of disconnectedness with the Church.  And I know what will restore me…a gentle return to the sacraments as life, not duty.

More than a self willed return to what I think is normal, I am sensing that in this time of finding my way I need to be gentle.  I sense that I have things to learn about motherhood and what my job really is.

A part of me is glad that we did not celebrate Caroline’s name’s day by going out to eat or treating it like a birthday party in disguise.  Remembering this way has made things very clear.  Forgetfulness creates emptiness.  When busyness and worldliness lead to forgetfulness, or worse, disregard…we grapple for things to fill the spiritual void.  Sentimentalism is something I turn to when I feel spiritually empty.  But, sentimentality has a dark side…behind the exterior of cherished memories and strong attachments, comes a fear of death characterized by anger and depression.  Sentimentality will never replace a heartfelt relationship with Christ.      

 One thing my mom advised me when I opened up to her about feeling disconnected is that the Church offers guidelines, but ultimately the the Church calendar must be followed in the heart.  The feasts and fasts are opportunities, not duties.  She also wisely showed me that I am not a spiritual giant, and that means that I am not going to experience every feast day or Liturgy or fasting season with the warmness of heart that I desire.  Sometimes things pass without me feeling anything, and that is ok.  She encouraged me to pray our family prayers diligently, and she challenged me to read the scriptures faithfully with her this next year.  

I got off the phone and thanked God for a Godly mother.  In her uncanny way my mom always challenges me to live a smaller life, especially spiritually.  She helps me come down out of the clouds and be a dutiful wife and mother. No pretense.  I love her for that.

Caroline celebrates her name day on December 9, she is Hannah… what a beautiful story of grace.  Hannah was one of two wives of Elkanah, and she was barren.  Elkanah’s other wife, Peninnah, had bore him many children.  Peninnah reproached Hannah, for bareness was shameful in those days.  In her sorrow Hannah cried out to the Lord, and He gave her a son, Samuel.  Samuel was the fruit of prayer and sorrow.  Hannah kept praying, even in failure and sorrow, she kept offering her heart.  She did this for many, many years before she was blessed with fruitfulness.
      
Happy late name’s day Caroline, my sweet Hannah.  I am sorry I forgot.  I am sorry we forgot.  Thank you for waking up to remind me.  Thank you for remembering.

Saint Hannah pray for us.  Pray for Caroline.

May we struggle to pray as Hannah did, she prayed as though she was drunk.  In fact she was very sober, sober and attentive.  And God heard her prayer and gave her a son.

And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife, and the Lord remembered her. And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, “I have asked for him from the Lord.”    

            

        

faith · family · Orthodoxy · parenting

Pray Always

“It is of great significance if there is a person who truly prays in a family. Prayer attracts God’s grace and all the members of the family feel it, even those whose hearts have grown cold. Pray always.” -Elder Thaddeus of Vitovnica

faith · family · http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · Orthodoxy

Dying Young

As we sat around the table drinking our coffee and visiting in our pajamas, my mom got a call from her cousin. Aunt Carol passed away, a heart attack, the day after Thanksgiving, in the early morning. My grandmother who was sitting at the table with us began to cry, to sob. It was a deep cry, the kind that comes when you love someone very much, the kind that speaks what words cannot. Aunt Carol was my grandmother’s best friend, her lifelong companion, they are sisters.

 I do not have a sister, two younger brothers. However, I am raising daughters, and I have witnessed the special bond that sisters have. It has been wonderful to live through my girls, to experience sisterhood. My grandmother commented at the funeral that I had no sister, expressing her belief that I do not fully understand her loss. She is right, I don’t. I am envious of those who have a sister, or sisters, to share their life with, I can see that it is a special thing.

 When those we love begin to die it is hard. I was born into a young family. I was the first grandchild on my mom’s side of the family. My grandparents married young, had their children when they were young. My mom and dad followed suit, and had children when they were young. My mom pointed out that I have not experienced many deaths yet. Yet. I am 35, I am young I think. However, I am getting older, and so are those that are very close.  It’s hard.

Aunt Carol seemed young to me.  She was in her early seventies, as many people pointed out as if this was a sufficient time to be on this earth, yet I felt she was young.  I will miss her.  It’s been hard to let her go.  I am finding that it is difficult to let life go.  The pace at which a life is lived seems fast to me, our lives are fleeting.

This Thanksgiving holiday made me really take a look at  my time, how I spend it, how I waste it, how I want to live it.  I want to live thankful everyday, no matter the circumstance.  Life is very precious.  I want to slow down on the inside, even if my outward life is going too fast.  Is that possible?  To slow down?  To be still inside so that I can be aware, not just passing the moments in ticktock fashion.

To waste time is sad to me, but that too must be accepted.  The mundane is part of the experience. It is hard to accept that when I realize just how short a life really is. When you think about it, everyone dies young.

Thy Kingdom come… Oh Lord, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.
 

faith · homeschooling · learning · Orthodoxy · saints

Saint Katherine of Alexandria

Today as I was reading with my 7 year old (8 in a few days) and doing some copywork I began to panic.  Is she behind?  It has only been this year that she has showed any interest in reading or writing.  Sometimes I think I have been too lax with her.  And then I watch her, and I listen to her, and I redirect my fear, and I trust.
 
She has a wisdom beyond her years, and she has a very tender heart toward God.  She is quiet and peaceful, and she has an aura about her that makes me want to be around her.  Although she is quiet she  can have a great conversation, and she asks tons of questions about the world.  

And those things count.

Today as we celebrate the Feast of Saint Katherine I am reminded that true education always enlightens the soul.  Saint Katherine loved learning, especially science and philosophy.  Yet she had a mind that was renewed by Christ, and it was this enlightening that made her orations so powerful.  She was wise, and the people who listened to her heard something this world cannot offer.  They were drawn to her knowledge, yes, but it was a knowledge full of truth, teeming with life.    

The one dimensional aspects of education are easy to teach, but wisdom comes from God.  I want to raise brilliant children, children who are enlightened with divine brilliance.  I pray that we can stifle the nonsensical chatter of this world as we live in it.  Lord help me to remember this as I educate my children.

Happy Feast Day, Mom!  We love you, and Many Years.

You led a spiritual life, and thus 
you captivated the godless tribunal, 
and you stood victorious, O Catherine, 
with dignity, decked in divine 
brilliance as if with flowers. And 
having put on the power of God, you 
ridiculed the tyrantʹs decree, and you 
stifled the nonsensical chatter of the 
orators, O holy Martyr who suffered 
much. 
  Service of Matins November 25
faith · http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · Orthodoxy

It matters to one.

While wandering a deserted beach at dawn, stagnant in my work, I saw a man in the distance bending and throwing as he walked the endless stretch toward me. As he came near, I could see that he was throwing starfish, abandoned on the sand by the tide, back into the sea. When he was close enough I asked him why he was working so hard at this strange task. He said that the sun would dry the starfish and they would die. I said to him that I thought he was foolish. There were thousands of starfish on miles and miles of beach. One man alone could never make a difference. He smiled as he picked up the next starfish. Hurling it far into the sea he said, “It makes a difference for this one.” I abandoned my writing and spent the morning throwing starfish.” 

Let us abandon our normal and spend some time throwing starfish.  Please prayerfully consider helping the victims and survivors of Typhoon Haiyan.  The International Orthodox Christian Charities (IOCC) has a Philippines Typhoon Disaster Fund.  We can also make much needed emergency hygiene kits. It matters to one.  

faith · fall · learning · Orthodoxy · saints

A faith like Saint Martin

There is great suffering in this world, and it is hard to take sometimes.  I woke up this morning, Samuel snuggled up close, nursing, contented, safe.  I made myself a cup of tea, prayed, made lists and to-do’s.  Warm Cream of Wheat filled bowls and everyone is well, clean, plump, happy.  I said thank you over and over.

In my heart I feel a swell of hurt sometimes.   It’s only a thought away, my mind wonders onto the suffering of others and instantly I feel a weight…the true weight of this world.  Death and suffering are all around us, we do not have to look very far…our neighbor, our kinfolk, our brethren.

 My great aunt from Virginia is visiting this week.  She was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer.  When I see her on Saturday we will share a meal, warm conversation, and say our goodbyes.  Until we meet again…

I saw the link last night…Typhoon Haiyan, and I was scared to click.  It is hard to look upon another’s suffering and not DO something, to feel helpless.  I pray, I pray with a heavy heart.  My heart hurts for the Philippines.

I saw a man in the grocery store who could barely walk, his size and weight almost too much for him to bear.  I wondered who loved him, who touched him, who cared for him.  His basket was full of healthy items; vegetables, fruit, a package of chicken breasts.  He is trying…he sees his own weakness…he wants to change.  I began to tear up, and I fervently prayed that he would find success in overcoming his passion.  Lord please help him.

Today is Veteran’s day…need I say more?

I remember when I became aware of the fact that suffering is a universal experience, that everyone suffers.  It was the day that I got a call from my mom, “Mandy, pray.  Papa has been in an accident.”  Our world changed in that moment.  My grandfather, the patriarch of the family, fell into a grain auger.  His children were all there, some desperately trying to free him, some watching in horror, others praying for a miracle.  One son cried, “Dad what happened, how did this happen?”   My grandfather’s last words were, “It just happened, son.”  Another son had been the one who flipped the switch, not knowing that his father was on top of a mountain of wheat inside the barn.  When the auger began to turn it pulled my grandfather into its rotation.

“It just happened.”

I have thought about that over and over.  Is that statement true?  Is suffering a happening that just is?  My grandfather did not struggle or resist.  He did not feel separate or exempt.  His last words were humble.  Death and suffering touch us all.  “It” happens to all of us.

But sometimes the suffering I see seems unbearable.  And in those times I cry to the Lord, who knows our suffering.  He suffered too.  That is a mystery and a consolation.

Today as we celebrate Martinmas, I hope the crafts and gifts and fun do not dull the raw and vulnerable message of Saint Martin.  A man lay at a gate, freezing to death, and Martin shared his cloak.  The reality of that story is horrifying.  Most of the stories of the saints are.  But, it is the response to suffering that make saint days worth remembering.  Saints meet suffering with faith.  They look suffering straight in the eyes and believe.  Faith takes action in compassion, forgiveness, martyrdom, and courage.  It takes courage to face a world of suffering and unbelief.

May I not look away in fear, may I not shrink back in cowardice, may I touch the unlovely and befriend the unfriendly.  Let it never be said that a Christian is squeamish or afraid.  The Gospel demands that I walk by faith.  Death and suffering do not negate the Resurrection.  Who better to care for the dying, sick, and suffering than the people of The Way.  We are a Resurrection people.  In Him we live, and move, and have our being.  We live in a sober expectation of Christ’s return.

I want to shake off despondency and recommit myself to a life of prayer and sacrifice.  I want to be courageous and faithful.  I want to journey toward the Nativity with a gift in my heart…a gift of faith.  True faith.  A living faith.  A faith that redeems suffering.  A faith like Saint Martin the Merciful.

books · faith · family · homeschooling · learning · Orthodoxy · saints

Archangel Michael Week!

I thought it might be nice to share our week with you in advance.
  • Above is a little song we are learning…My Father’s Angels.
  • We are also going to make flower arrangements on Thursday in small Mason jars with the Asters, or Michaelmas Daises growing in my garden and place them in the icon corner.
  • I am shopping today for fresh Blackberries for cobbler for Friday night. Legend has it that on the day that Archangel Michael defeated Lucifer in heaven and kicked him out, Satan fell into a Bramble bush and cursed it.
  • We are telling the story of the War in Heaven.
  • We are reading Saint George and the Dragon all week.
  • We are also working on memorizing Psalm 23 and reading Sometimes I Get Scared.
  • Having lots of conversations about fear and courage.  What is good fear?  What is bad fear?  When do we need to be courageous?  What happens when we are not courageous?
  • Praying the Akathist Hymn to St. Michael the Archangel on Friday.
  • Watching How to Train Your Dragon for a movie night on Friday. 
  • Just for Mom.
faith · family · Orthodoxy

Orthodox Mission {A family, a community}

 I had never really given much thought to Orthodoxy in America until I began attending St. Aresenius Hermitage.  It was then that I began to understand the sacrifices and commitment it takes to spread the Gospel, to break ground in a foreign land, to start from nothing.

That is just what is happening at St. Arsenius Hermitage.  It is nestled in the hills and pasture of North Texas, a few miles outside of a small community that does not have an Orthodox Church.  In fact, the folks of this community and surrounding areas have never even heard of Orthodoxy, much less encountered a monk in robs shopping at their local home improvement store.  The newspaper did a bio, and Father Gregory’s picture was cropped among the happenings of small town Texas life.  He looked out of place, but his warm smile fit right in.

I wonder sometimes how Orthodoxy will ever permeate this Texas culture, sometimes they seem worlds apart; Orthodoxy and Texas. And then I look at my family, and I have hope.  Orthodoxy makes all things new, it takes a proud Texan like myself and makes me new…without requiring me to loose my twang.  Although, a priest once commented after I had chanted during Holy Week that he had never heard anything like it.  I did not know if I should laugh or be offended, I chose to laugh.  I am what I am, and if Orthodoxy is truly catholic I know there is a place for me.

Trying to become Orthodox has required that we as a family make new traditions.  And that is hard.  We are constantly trying to balance culture with church.  We are not Greek, and we are not Russian, or Arab, or Romanian.  However, Orthodoxy has a way of getting in the cracks, and slowly we are becoming American Orthodox.  What will this look like?…who knows, we have a LONG way to go.  I know because I watch the work at St. Arsenius, and I can see the longevity of the call.  How long will it take for this small community in Texas to embrace the monk in the country?  Longer still will be the inclusion, the familiarity, the ease that signifies Orthodox community life.  It is a long and hard work.  We Texans are willful and self directed, I could think of no harder place to break ground.

The story of St. Arsenius Hermitage is very inspiring.  A family of twelve, a husband and wife and ten children have opened their hearts to the call.  They labor alongside Father Gregory, and it is back breaking work.  When I look at all they have sacrificed to help bring an Orthodox presence to this area I am truly humbled.  They have given land, money, and labor.  But, it is the sacrifice the family makes that breaks my heart.  To begin this work the family has given up time, a resource that can never be renewed. All I can offer is my understanding, support, and heartfelt thanks.  We help when we can, and I wish we could do more.  It is a hard work.

We (my family) are a mission field…our community is a mission field…Texas is a mission field…America is a mission field.  Orthodoxy is young in America.  I am ok with that, and I understand that my conversion is also in its infancy. I am starting to see and learning to accept that becoming Orthodox is a long and hard work, but one that is full of life and reward.  Lord have mercy.      

For a good read on Orthodoxy and the South go here…
Orthodoxy and the Christ-Haunted Culture of the South