Fourth Week

I'm trying to get away from the monster of "accomplishment" that gnaws at my breast this time of year. (I'm not referring to Raphael—I mean the metaphorical monster and the metaphorical breast).

During this final week of Advent, I am concentrating on moving peacefully amidst the great tidal wave of projects which I think (back in November) I can accomplish before Christmas —the baking, with all my floury, crumby, spready, spilly little helpers; the top secret knitting projects for a man with enormous feet, the handmade presents for godchildren, nieces, nephews, piano students...

See that baby down there? Oh good eyes! 

It is such a great comfort that the Son of God was born into poverty and squalor; that, as Chesterton points out, the rich and the educated (who no doubt had beautifully decorated houses and perfect baking) were the last to arrive at the manger.

This picture is from 3 weeks ago—we've since found pants for Matthias 

No matter what our house looks like or how many cookies we burn or how many handmade presents lie unfinished in the sewing room, Christmas will be beautiful, the Divine Incarnation will be beautiful...

...the most beautiful mystery, the oriens, the morning star rising in the East.

If I can remember to smile at the children (it's amazing how busy-ness will put a furrow in your brow) and enjoy them and their silly jokes and sing Advent songs while we work in addition to bossing them around, and if I can be Will's radiant wife, then perhaps the Divine Infant will find a home in our house this Christmas.



There are so many reasons to stop and enjoy the process, this "road to Bethlehem".

"Star in the East, the horizon adorning..." (shape note carol)

May your hearts be merry and your homes full of peace during this final week.