Thursday, December 6, 2012

Where there is life there is love

Christmas Lights

In my last two posts, here and here, I shared about being open to the hope and the wonder of this Advent season. I mused on long darkness and piercing light and holy spirit smoke. I swelled with anticipation.

It's amazing how everything can change in a day or two.

My first week of Advent has been ripe with hard conversations, thwarted goals, and deep soul walking. There has been no lighting of the Advent wreath, no dwelling in Words of life, no mighty nesting instinct spurring me on to small acts of preparation.

Instead, there has been life.

And it has been drippy and sticky and complicated.

I lost every ounce of patience with my children, closed the door to the world and lamented my fate to the skies. And never fear, there was much cursing and clenching of fists.

I surveyed my house on several occasions and wondered how I could possibly want for more when I was already drowning in piles of paper and trinkets and dust.

And as people near and dear to my heart spun like dervishes in the wake of their own deep churning, I felt the strain of impotence.

But that is not all.

For "where there is life there is love" and this week delivered that, as well.


I learned the spiritual discipline of letting go... of control. of unrealistic expectations. of perfection.

Every year since we have been married, I have put up the Christmas lights. Not to take a stand on equality or anything else noble like that. No, I have always put up the Christmas lights because I am a control freak.
But this year found me committed to another task on the 65 degree December weekend that simply insisted be dedicated to donning holiday lights. And my husband and two boys needed something to do together. The answer was simple=put up the lights.
The lights did not go up in the order or manner they were supposed to. There were colored lights hanging all willy nilly from columns and door frames and I didn't understand the arrangement and it was.all.wrong.
I was just about to intercede on the behalf of Christmas lights everywhere and offer some constructive criticism when I felt my tongue freeze heavy in my mouth. Something stopped me. It was not because of anything generous in my own spirit. No, my mind was busy talking my body off the ledge of Christmas madness and encouraging deep breaths and closed eyes. No, something bigger and greater and wiser than me was taking over. And it was winning.

That is what love does. It wins.

And the other miraculous thing? I didn't put up a fight.
I let love win this one.

Something hard and brittle broke in me that day. A rigid cast of contention that I had made my uniform for all these years, it simply fell away.

And in its absence I could move. And breathe.

And now my sweet, little house shimmers with color and beauty and glory and I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

That has been my Advent lesson this week.

quote: Mahatma Ghandi


19 comments:

  1. Oh Holly, you write of places I have lived, places I have travelled, broken. And gratefully, healed from. I have worn this uniform. May you experience a holy piece in the wearing of a new garment, love from the Spirt. Beauty in your bleeding on paper. Your heart, its overflow, sings peaceful praise.

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  2. How ironic, we both needed new "uniforms" in the same week...I am trying very hard to get used to mine...
    Love you..

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  3. This is beautiful. I am loving everyone's Advent posts. And you know, those boys will remember this and they will look back on this with so much joy. My kids love the decorating process. I had a daughter in tears because I set up the nativity scene instead of her, so I hear the drama that comes with kids and christmas.

    "I lost every ounce of patience with my children, closed the door to the world and lamented my fate to the skies. And never fear, there was much cursing and clenching of fists." - so much yes and amen to this one. Somehow when it's said so elegantly it doesn't seem as awful as it does in the moment, lol.

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  4. "And now my sweet, little house shimmers with color and beauty and glory and I had absolutely nothing to do with it."


    There is glory in that, knowing you don't have to do it all and it can still be beautiful. I've realized this week that I'm much kinder and mor patient with people outside of my home than the ones inside of it and I'm working on practical steps I can take to fix that. It's hard, this act of living together with other people. But oh it's wonderful too.


    Thank you friend.

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  5. Thank you, friend. And I will take peace, always. Always.

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  6. Oh, if only we would get out of the way more often! What miracles might be wrought! Thank you for your presence here.

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  7. There is so much glory in that acceptance. I need to choose that garment more often.

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  8. And a wonderful lesson it is...the beauty that comes from our brokenness is like none other.

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  9. A hard week here too, Holly. Grateful for this glimpse into the hard, and the reminder of love winning.

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  10. The whole "I had nothing to do with it" thing has been pressing in on me, in the best way possible. Thank you for sharing what that looks like in your house and your life, Holly.

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  11. That is my life mantra-let love win. Let it win, let it win, let it win. I bet your lights are just beautiful enough.

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  12. Yes, Marty, that is so true.

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  13. There must be something in the air, my dear Annie. I pray that love will win the hearts of everyone in your household this season.

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  14. Perhaps that might be the greatest lesson I learn this season, that when I let go, so much good flows in. So thankful to have you in this space with me.

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  15. Yes. Always, Anna. And those lights? Beautiful.

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  16. I find comfort and solidarity in knowing I'm not the only one struggling with this mothering gig . . . Oh, I've been on my face these last weeks crying for grace and wisdom for the turns and transitions that are happening inside my oldest son. And that grace and wisdom finally started seeping into my soul the other day . . . Here's to hoping I'll know what the heck I'm doing someday. ;)


    In related news: I needed this honesty today.


    Love you,
    Erika

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  17. I would love to glean some of that new found wisdom from you, friend, for I need it, always. So loving having you in this space. Thank you.

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  18. I would love to glean some of that new found wisdom from you, friend, for I need it, always. I am so grateful to have you in this space, Erika. Thank you.

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  19. And what a great lesson it is. The best one, actually. I'm still in school on this one and probably always will be. Some days, I can let go easily and happily. Other. . . not so much. Sigh. Glad your Advent is turning out to be a time for relinquishing that need to be in control of all the pieces of your life...Thanks for this, Holly.

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