Candlelight in the Morning

 I set the box aside, even before the Christmas season ended. The Candlemas box. On February 2, when the Church celebrates the feast of the Presentation of the Lord, we will go to Mass and have our candles blessed. I have been placing in that box the candles I will use in my home this year. There are some large jar candles, some smaller votive candles, two boxes of brand new advent candles, some beeswax tapers. These are the lights, the flames, that mark the hours of our days.

In the atrium, we teach the children that the flame is the light of Christ and the smoke is our prayers going up to heaven. My children love this concept! Each day, a candle illuminates the hour, warms the moment, brings us into the presence of Him who is Light. In our home, the first candle of the day is the one on the prayer table. There, next to the icons, is a large glass candle, safely up away from little hands. This is a candle that might burn all day.

I light it in the morning for my personal time with my Bible and a cup of tea. I love the way the light dances off the icons. If there are specific and pressing prayers for which I have been asked to pray, I leave it lit. These candles burn for a long time and they fill the air with scent. Both the light and the scent call to mind prayer intentions throughout my day. I've been slowly gathering these, one at a time, at my local grocery store (though I just noticed the Amazon price is better). I'm sure I don't have enough for the whole year, but I do have several to be blessed.

This candle's light is central in our home. We see it as we go up and down the stairs. We see it when we come and go through the front door. And it is the first thing my children see when they come downstairs to find me in the morning. The day begins in the glow of golden light.

A good beginning, I think.

Preparing for Candlemas:

Candlelight in the Morning

Candlelight at the Table

Candlelight at the End of the Day (Friday)

Stepping Together: Cheerful Pursuit of Joy

The day can begin under less than ideal circumstances: a sleepless night, a wicked headache, hormonal craziness, a blood sugar low, a festering argument. Whatever the root, the result is a bad mood. And then comes the defining moment of the day: do I succumb to the bad mood or do I fight for the joy that lies just under the weight of the crosses? Do I grumble and exaggerate, even celebrate, the trials of the morning, assuring that everyone around me knows I'm suffering? Or do I force myself to focus on the eternally present joy of my Christian inheritance and put a smile on my face and persevere in cheerfulness for the sake of the people entrusted to my care? And really, for my sake too.

One thing is certain. I cannot be cheerful under my own strength. I pray for the grace. I stumble. I falter. I persevere imperfectly. But His grace is sufficient. Always sufficient.

God doesn't call us to wallow in our suffering. He doesn't want us hoist our crosses upon the shoulders of the people around us. The sleepless night is my cross. It's not my husband's cross. If I stomp around the kitchen, whining about how tired I am, I foist that cross onto someone else's shoulders. If I "fake" it, and smile instead and force myself to take even more care with breakfast, I bless someone. The thing about choosing joy, even when we don't feel joy? Usually, we end up feeling it too. It's not dishonest. It's discipline.

When we dwell on our suffering, we magnify it. When we accept it and choose to be ever-aware of the joy that comes with being God's own child and to share that joy, despite our own immediate unhappiness, we sanctify it. This month, St. Teresa of Avila reminds us that children need to see us doing virtuous deeds. There is real virtue in cheerfulness. It's infectious virtue. Children can learn cheerful obedience from their mothers.

You know the saying, "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy?" That one proves true in most every household. But when Mama smiles, despite her suffering, she blesses. And she is blessed.

There is sadness in our world. There is sorrow -- real sorrow and genuine pain -- in every life. We're called to embrace our crosses. We are not called to hit other people over the head with them.

I think one of my favorite quotes in Small Steps is

From silly devotions and sour-faced saints, good Lord, deliver us.

(St. Teresa of Avila)

A sour-faced saint?  Can you even be sour faced and a saint?

Do my children whine? Chances are I do, too.

Do my children criticize and complain and gossip about their siblings and friends? Chances are I do, too.

Do my children bluster through every chore, griping and seeking ways to escape the drudgery? Chances are I do, too.

Do my children seem to revel in the suffering, making much ado of it and sighing frequently, ensuring that everyone around them knows how hard life is?

Is the outward expression of discontent and ungratefulness taking hold and multiplying in my home like kudzu in Alabama?

Or do the people in my home smile? Do they do the hard thing with a peaceful countenance even though they don't want to and don't enjoy it (much the same way they decline a second piece of cake even though they want more)? Do they fake happiness for a time and master their emotions, with full confidence that a genuine awareness and effusiveness of joy is right around the corner?

If they do that over and over and over again, it will become a habit of joy. And when it does, they will no longer whine; it will grate upon their own ears just to hear whining. They will no longer judge and criticize; they will encourage and celebrate the best in the people around them, without rancor or envy. They will be more peaceful, genuinely peaceful. They will embrace their crosses with full confidence that there is joy to be found in the difficult things, too. They will see that cheerful joy is their calling and step into the day, singing and dancing with St. Philip Neri:

A glad spirit attains to perfection more quickly than any other.

Did you take small steps towards joy this week? Would you share them with us, let us find you and be encouraged? I'd be so grateful and so honored to step with you.

Winter Daybook

Outside My Window

It was 8 degrees outside when I got up this morning. Brrr.

I am Listening to

Karoline discussing plans for a Princess Bluebell Tea Party...

I am Wearing

Yoga pants, two sweatshirts, ski socks and slippers. Crazy cold.

I am so Grateful for

Good friends for my teenaged daughter.

I'm Pondering

See everything. Overlook a great deal. Correct a little ~Bl. Pope John XXIII 

I am Reading

One Thousand Gifts on Kindle

The Story of the Trapp Family Singers I actually read this one a couple of weeks ago. I read parts of the first few chapters aloud to Karoline, but she was totally frustrated. "Obviously, the person who wrote this book didn't pay very good attention to the movie. She got all the names wrong!" It's such a wonderful story of faith and family that I love to read it again and again.

That one got us on a little roll. We watched another movie that, while delightful, really deemphasizes the devoutness of the family in the screen version. My kids loved this movie--19 kids and yet another seafaring Dad! And then, I read the real story. It's a shame this book is not readily available. It's a wonderful read, well worth combing local libraries to find.

I am Thinking

About all your emails last week, following the first Stepping Together post. Your insights are valuable and they never fail to help me grow and to understand. God is amazing!

I am Creating

Karoline have done some early morning art surfing and resolved to get to these projects this week:

Town of Van Snow

Snowman Collage

Picasso's Rose Period Hearts

I'm finding Emily's posts on creativity really inspiring.

On my iPod

This new rosary app: Rosary Miracle Prayer App

Towards a Real Education

Random snippets:

I love the way the year is unfolding in harmony with the seasons: we should finish up the High Middle Ages and head into the Renaissance just in time for spring. Spring here tends to dissolve into nature and art and Shakespeare. This year, it will look like I planned it that way;-).

For as long as he has the time, Michael is taking two kids at a time downtown once a week to visit art galleries and museums. Katie and Nicky went last week. Once again, Nick's eyes filled with tears when it was time to head home. I don't think I'll ever tire of watching how much he loves to be in an art museum.

I talked education with several retired teachers and administrators at my father's birthday brunch yesterday. I was a little surprised by how open and supportive they were about homeschooling. Of course, it's entirely possible that they are just gracious and polite. Well, they were definitely gracious and polite, but they might just be good at pretending too. Still, it was very fun to talk kindergarten with someone who loves it as much as I do! When I have no kindergarteners left here at home, I wonder if I can persuade someone to send me theirs a few days a week, just so I can get my fix.

Towards Rhythm and Beauty

It appears that Karoline's new morning involves rising between 5 and 6 and having dozens of picture books read other before anyone else awakens. It's a lovely time.

Now to figure out when I will exercise and have my own quiet time...

We're having a Kind Conversation about

Getting healthy in 2011

To Live the Liturgy

I am so organized and ready for Candlemas. The link is to an old blog fair with posts on Candlemas. Lots of good reading there. I've been setting aside candles for several weeks now and I have a series of three posts all queued up and ready to go this week.

I am Hoping and Praying

for Elizabeth deHority. She is constantly on my heart and in my prayers. She needs you now. Please, please pray with me.

Around the House

The older my baby, the cleaner my house. I hope I never, ever forget this fact. I hate didactic admonitions all about how if you just get your act together, your house can look like Pottery Barn. The reality is that if I really am tuned into my baby and I really have my priorities straight, the house will be a little "in process" most of the time. And the rest of the time? It will be a mess.

But now, it's rarely a mess. And it's often quite clean. But I don't want to pat myself on the back and have any illusions that it's because I've at last mastered all those housekeeping details. The reality is that my kids are older. Period.

From the Kitchen

This week, Sarah has done my menu planning and I am so grateful!

One of My Favorite Things

Monastery Creamed Honey from the monks in Berryville. My stepmother offered it to me for tea on Saturday night. Then, I added it to my coffee yesterday.  Best cup of coffee ever. I'm not kidding.

I really want to get out to that monastery with the kids, soon.

Sarah Annie this week

She comes to me heavily laden, two small baskets in one hand, a third basket in the other, a blanket over her shoulders.

"You hold this?" she asks, handing me the first basket.

"You hold this?" she continues, with the second basket.

"And you hold this?" I take the third basket.

"You hold my blanket?" But of course.

She reaches both hand up, arms outstretched to me, as I shift her treasures in my hands. "You hold me, too?"

I'd like nothing better.

A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week

Due to extreme carsicknesses on the way back from Charlottesville yesterday, today's car trip to Fredericksburg to visit Beatrix and Larkspur has been postponed. I'm definitely bummed. Everyone whose age is double digits will be at the March for Life today. We've had some extra teenagers here and there last weekend--now everyone is off to DC to make a statement and effect a change.

The rest off the week is up in the air -- or not. Depending on Paddy's schedule, we may or may not be taking a quick trip to Florida...

Picture thoughts:

 
    

 

Grateful Words; Grateful for Words

Early last week, I was thinking about Ann's and Holley's series on words. They had asked for posts about words. Could I do it? Could I write about words without writing about their power to wound? Could I just be grateful for words? That was the plan.

For last Tuesday.

The plan was derailed, ironically, by words. But the thought remained. What are the words for which I am grateful? I've committed to counting twenty items in this space each week this year. Are there twenty ways words bless, just this past week? Can I count those alone? I can, indeed. It's surprisingly easy.

~ Handwritten words, sent in the mail, with a skein of yarn.

~"I luf mome" in crayon, surrounded by dozens of lopsided hearts.

~"You're Maria. Daddy's the Captain. Sing Do-Re-Mi." Again. And again. And again.

~"Looks like we're getting paid, after all."

~"The Mass is ended; go in peace."

~Entering Albemarle County

~"Happy 70th Birthday, Dad!"

~A tiny two-year-old who falls asleep saying, "Grandpa makes me happy. Baba makes me happy."

~"This is my daughter, Elizabeth."

~Planning. Momcation. Knitting. Words of hope.

~In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

~"Let's go to Florida in February."

~"I'm not going to the Super Bowl."

~"All players will fly home on February 28^th for some time at home with family and friends."

~The first words I hear every morning: "Divine Office: From ancient times, Church has had the custom of celebrating each day the Liturgy of the Hours. In this way, the Church fulfills the Lord's precept to pray without ceasing, at once offering praise to God, the Father, and interceding for the salvation of the world." @Divineoffice.org. I'm addicted to those words.

~Becca, at two o'clock, every Monday afternoon: "I'm going to Starbuck's, can I get you something?"

~"Is now a good time to come over and show you my Becky Higgins Project Life?" It sure is. How cool is that?

~"It's snowing!"

~"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I talked to Dad about three hours ago. He said to tell you he landed safely and he'll call tonight." (I was wondering...)

~Thank you.

~I'm sorry.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual.  Photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.