MollyMadonna.com

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let’s not just let it go.

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As with any big event, Christmas comes with so much preparation, ramping up and expectation. Not unlike a wedding day, a big birthday, or a move off to college, the days to follow arrive quickly, as though someone has pulled the celebratory rug out from under us and left us on the bare floor, wondering how on earth it all came and went so fast. At least, that’s how I’ve felt a time or two or twenty.

Today, things are quiet in our house. Jason is away until dinner time, and Henry and Eloise mostly just want to play with their favorite new things. It’s been gray here, and colder, with a drizzly rain that halted any plans of a walk before nap time. The house is resting, and I would be, too, but I’m thinking about yesterday and what comes between now and New Year’s, and how I want to prepare myself to head into 2016 with a hopeful perspective for whatever will take shape when I swap out the calendar.

I don’t mind the idea of a fresh start, especially at the tail end of a bang-up year. There has been a lot of good to go along with the bad, but there’s plenty I’m content to put behind us, too. I’ll be there and ready in a little shy of a week when the clock strikes midnight. I’m just not there quite yet.

The tree is still up (and will be a while longer) and the lights are still warming up the room as I type. New Christmas gifts arrived from Gramma today, and I’m thankful for how they’ll draw out the magic of Christmas just a little bit longer under all of the ornaments, not quite ready to be put back in their boxes for next eleven months.

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I know some are so eager to “pack up Christmas” and put it away. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but I do like it to linger. I like that, for a few days at least, the whole world around me seems to carry with it an awareness–a sensitivity to being softer, kinder, more generous, more present with one another and the needs of friends and strangers, alike.

It’s as though Christmas shines a light on the fact that we’re all human, and we seem to remember this better while we all unite in an effort to usher in Christmas, however different our individual celebrations may be.

I’m not ready to let go of Christmas just yet. When something changes you for good, you don’t want it to end.

When Jesus was born, Christmas was only just beginning as the wisemen traveled from afar to bring gifts to the baby King. They didn’t arrive in just a few hours, but journeyed long days to meet their Savior and to offer of themselves, in person, to Him.

Celebrating a graceful December this year is challenging me to seek out ways to carry out Christmas, right into the New Year. With the twelve days of Christmas in full swing and Epiphany not until January 6th, I figure I have the perfect reason not to let it all go just yet (as if anyone needed justification for more of Christmas :)!

Let’s not let sale shopping and gift exchanging, end of year busyness and “putting away” our holiday decor get in the way of continuing to extend ourselves to friends, family and strangers. Then, the light that has poured so freely into our lives this past week will shine brightly over the normal days on our calendars, too.

How can I extend Christmas and light to those in my sphere of influence these next few days? How can you?

Embracing the good,

molly madonna

 

 

 

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a grace-full Christmas.

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Earlier this week, I was putting Henry to bed and having one of our usual, long, night time chats when he almost started to cry.

“I just never have any Christmas dreams. I only have bad dreams lately. I never have Christmas dreams or dreams about Jesus, and I want to have dreams about Jesus because he’s a really good guy!”

I asked Henry whether I could pray over him before bed, that God would grant him peaceful rest and good dreams, and we prayed together as my big little guy turned over and settled down into sleep.

Isn’t this a picture of what we’re all feeling, just days before Christmas? We don’t want to have the bad dreams, the hardest moments, the scary things–especially when we’re trying to celebrate the most beautiful things instead. The beauty of Christmas and the peace of Jesus are so much more our heart’s desire. Maybe four year olds just have a way of seeing what we all feel way down deep and do not say.

It’s hard when we don’t control all circumstances, and when the things we want feel out of reach. More of Jesus would be so much better, and he is…but in the midst of life and busyness and stress and unrest, how do we find Him?

Today is set apart, because on Christmas, we know where much of the world is looking, and we can look, too. We turn our attention to Bethlehem, the manger, the virgin girl searching for Jesus right with us, even as she gives birth to Him in a lowly stable. We sing the songs that tell and retell the story, we light our candles, we break bread together around the table, we open gifts.

And the love that was poured out on the night of Christ’s birth pushes through the hard and the hurting, even if only for a moment.

This is the gift that remains long after the tree has been put away…the one handed to all of us, whether there’s a box anywhere with our name on it at all. At Christmas, we look and long and maybe even cry out, and the tiny hand of a newborn baby reaches out and offers hopeful grace for the days to come.

I’ve spent a lot of time asking God to guide me into a pattern graceful living this month, knowing that on my own, I might be hard pressed to find the rhythm. And it has been much harder than I’d like to admit most days, and I’ve had to battle more than I imagined to truly get to a space of living gracefully instead of hastily.

Christmas does not bring out the best in all of us when we’re feeling so pressed to keep up and show up (and sometimes, one up). The “Christmas spirit” has often felt more to me like striving and achieving and less like just arriving and believing. I’ve had to fend off all of the things I think I want for all of the good that God has for me, instead. It’s easy to get confused…it’s so easy to be human and forget about the divine.

I suppose I’ve felt a bit like Henry as this Christmas Day came closer. I found myself in the middle of things I didn’t want, when I was craving Christmas and that “really good guy,” Jesus, in my heart.

So I asked Him. I asked to be reminded of the graceful in this season. I asked for slowed down moments and the ability to stop myself in places where I needed more air and less perfection. Arriving at today felt like a marathon, but the good, stretching, growing kind where you PR in the end and have sure footing at the finish line.

This morning, Henry woke up excited as he shouted “Merry Christmas!” from his bed and anxiously awaited the house rising from sleep and into this long-awaited Christmas Day. He was in such a contagiously good mood. And he told me right away as if top of mind, “Mom! I had a Christmas dream! I dreamed that me and Eloise and our cousins were all together, and it was Christmas morning!!!” I couldn’t help but remember our conversation from a few short days ago, and that prayer we offered up to God together, in expectation for what He would do.

Christmas is a season of expectation, and I think it’s a matter of how we set that expectation that makes the difference. Today was imperfect by some standards…nearly all of our family was far away, Eloise had a fever, I didn’t get brunch on the table until 1pm. But it was perfect in this: after days of praying that my heart could be set on graceful living in this Christmas season, God has faithfully shown me where “graceful” resides, all day long.

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Graceful is acknowledging the imperfect and finding the joy anyway. Graceful is a tiny reprieve from a heavy burden. Graceful is a walk in the sunshine in Christmas pajamas at 2pm and Face Time conversations with people we love. Graceful is unplanned and utterly welcome guests. It’s putting down agendas for the sake of others, saying “yes” when “no” feels easier and saying “no” when “yes” is past our limitations. Graceful is what we find when we look to God and ask for help, and He sends us a Savior in the form of a helpless babe.

I am so thankful for this Christmas that has taught me so much about loving and living–in and through and in spite of feelings and circumstances. Tonight, I’ll head to bed early, heart full, stomach full, house full, grace full. I hope that wherever you are and however you’ve spent it, this day has left you full in all of the good ways, too.

Sweet dreams, and Merry Christmas.

molly madonna

 

 

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grace day.

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Infusing grace is often the quiet, simple act of creating space or margin for ourselves or others. We have to inhale and exhale fully before we can go on with strength.

Today I need to inhale and exhale in both physical and emotional ways. My lungs are tight–the result of something my body is fighting and things my mind is wrestling as well.

I’ve decided to take a bit of a grace day for myself here on the blog, which is perhaps the most graceful thing I could do for my home and family tonight as the celebration of Christmas arrives in just four days. I want to be a loving, patient, grounded person when the 25th gets here–not just for Jason, Henry and Eloise, but mostly, for Christ.

“Behold, your king is coming to you.” Zechariah 9.9

I love this truth. I’m going to do my best to rest in it here tonight. As we anticipate the baby on His way to Bethlehem, I hope you will, too.

grace and peace,

molly madonna

 

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!

Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!

Behold, your king is coming to you;

righteous and having salvation is he,

humble and mounted on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Zech 9.9

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setting the soundtrack.

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This afternoon, Henry and I gathered supplies at the table and started wrapping a package for Daddy for Christmas. It was sweet to watch H’s little fingers pull tape, his little hands use scissors to cut paper. I asked if he wanted some music on, and we picked out Christmas carols on iTunes to put ourselves in a gift-wrapping mood.

Maybe it sounds picturesque, and for the moment, it was. A quiet space in the middle of Sunday for wrapping presents with my little guy. The pride on his face when he put the last piece of tape on a box, and added his handwritten gift tag to the front. The music playing. The fact that there are gifts to wrap at all.

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My faithful gift wrapping buddy.

These snippets of time that shape our hearts toward Christmas are beautiful and good. I’m trying to be intentional to carve out time for more of them–to do at least one thing with our family that feels in keeping with the spirit of the season, every day. But the few minutes I described above are only a few minutes. They don’t shape the whole day, and they don’t always reflect my Christmas-weighted heart.

I think I’ve talked with at least one person every day this past week who is feeling the squeeze of the holidays just like I am, even though none of us wants to be feeling it at all.

Have to get the shopping done.

Have to get the packages in the mail.

Have to address one million Christmas cards.

Have to get the dog to the groomer.

Have to do the grocery shopping.

And these are only some of the “have to’s,” all coming from those of us who don’t “have to” figure out how to put food on the table tomorrow, let alone presents under the tree by the end of the week.

The squeeze of the holidays is not avoidable at every turn, even if we want it to be.

I’ve asked myself hundreds of times over in the past three weeks, “Molly, what does it actually mean to live out a ‘graceful’ month of December?” I can tell you that I’ve been utterly imperfect at handling everything with grace since December rolled around. I am not very graceful when I’m trying to rush the kids out the door to the next obligation–least of all, when we’re running behind and it’s actually my fault. I’m not very graceful when I’m saying “no” to one of the kids one more time because my to do list is long and I’ve “just got to get things done.” Nope. Those moments do not feel graceful at all.

What does feel graceful are the times when I stop the amped up soundtrack of Christmas that the world is playing, and I trade it out for carols at the table, wrapping presents with Henry instead.

Graceful this month is the very same as graceful every other month of the year, with a little extra twist and challenge. I still have to choose it intentionally if I want to meet it face to face. Arguably, I picked the very best and the absolute worst time of year to decide to blog every single night. I look up from my computer screen and see piles of things I “have to” get done. But then I remember, I didn’t really pick this at all. It picked me, and I happened to say yes. So many great joys have come from a simple yes to the right kind of thing for my heart in this Christmas season.

I know when I’ve said yes to the right things, because joy always comes pouring out of them eventually. 

Last night and this morning, I had the privilege of just soaking in worship and music and rhythm in celebration of Christmas with family and dear friends. It was like hitting the reset button on my Christmas heart all over again. It is so necessary for us to take time to really focus on why we’re celebrating what we celebrate in December every year. Even if I have to recalibrate on a daily or weekly basis right now, I love that worship, prayer and fellowship always bring me back to a place of focusing on the Child in the manger and the reason that He came. In these moments, His peace becomes the Christmas soundtrack my heart has needed, and I can get back to the things that graceful living is all about.

Does your Christmas season have a soundtrack? This year? Always? Is it beautiful and peaceful to listen to, or is it strenuous and grating?

Sometimes we just need to change the station, to rest in what we can trust about Christmas arriving, to say yes to the kinds of moments that bring joy instead of stress or strain. At least, I do.

If you’d benefit from a little dose of joy tonight, I’m linking this recording of the most amazing rendition of O Holy Night…it moved me to tears last night and this morning, and I hope it will bless your Christmas heart, too.

love…and a thrill of hope,

molly madonna

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Dear Santa.

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I haven’t given you much of a chance over the past few years. Honestly, I really haven’t felt that confusing the idea of you with the idea of Christmas was a great plan, and didn’t want you to become the focal point of the holiday for Henry or Eloise. Last year, we didn’t talk about you, except to ask Henry if he wanted to visit you. He quickly declined, which made things fairly easy. I was happy not to have the conversation on the table.

I don’t know if this makes me a good girl or a bad girl, and really, I don’t need to know. Everyone has a difference of opinion where you’re concerned, but it took me until adulthood to realize you were so controversial.

Then I got to thinking…a round, old man and total stranger, dressed in a crazy suit and busting into the house in the middle of the night with gifts? When I put it this way in my head, it’s easy to decide I’d probably rather the house just be left alone. But then, I never minded all of your shenanigans as a kid–I actually loved them! It’s hard to know which side of the sleigh you’re on when the matter regards a fictional character (no offense).

It’s just that I’ve wanted so much for our little ones to know the true reason we’re celebrating Christmas, and I have a feeling that without a good foundation on the subject, they might miss the manger for the reindeer instead. So…we’ve kind of been avoiding you, Santa.

And when I say “we’ve,” I should probably say “I’ve.” I’m really the Grinch here, let’s be honest. Because you’re fun and fun to imagine, and the season of Christmas should be magical, and maybe I’ve robbed us from some part of celebrating because I’ve kept you tucked away at the North Pole. At least, I did the best I could…

Turns out though, that kids are going to be kids, and they’re smart, too. There’s no way they aren’t going to see you all over town at Christmastime, and, by nature of being kids, they’re going to want to know about you and ask about you and get to know you. Like, sit on your lap and talk, you know?

The questions started a few weeks ago: “Mom, how many Santa’s are there?” “How far is it to the North Pole?” “Does Santa have a mouth? I didn’t see it under his beard.” “Does Santa have a wife?” “Does he always wear a red suit?” “Will Santa wait for us until we get there?”

Even at this, I’ve responded with open-ended answers…”What do you think about that?” “I’m not sure.” “We’ll have to check on that.” Clearly, I’m still battling, not wanting to perpetuate the idea of you any more than necessary. And, clearly, I stopped believing a long time ago.

I’m sorry, Santa. I am. Especially now that we’ve caved at taken the kids to see you at their request. Why did we do this when I’m such a curmudgeon? Well, because I didn’t have the heart to tell Henry you’re not real, and because he tells me he’s most excited about it being Jesus’ birthday, which makes me feel like maybe there’s room in the stable for you, too, this Christmastime.

Last night, we made our way downtown to visit you, and the kids we’re so excited. And then it was their turn to see you, and you were kind and patient and thoughtful and engaging. It’s possible my heart grew a size-ish or two as you hugged and high-fived and fist bumped Henry, telling him he was the best. Did you see the grin on his face?!

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“Mom and Dad and I have been talking about some LEGOS,” Henry told you.

“I need some new puzzles…” Eloise said shyly after warming up to you little by little. By the time we went to leave, she was calling herself Santa and insisting we wait for you to come back downstairs from feeding the reindeer. As you made your way across the room, you sang with a perfectly Santa voice and a perfectly lovely amount of holiday cheer. You were exactly what little girl dreams are made of at Christmas time.

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Tonight as we left church, Eloise said this from the back seat: “Mommy? I love Jesus and Santa. I love them soooooooo much!” I suppose in that order I can make my peace if you can, Mr. Claus.

I’m sorry I’ve been such a stick in the mud recently. I’ll try to make you feel welcome this year, if only because there’s room for unexpected guests at Christmas, and I’m trying to be graceful, after all.

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Used to wear long brown pigtails and black patent leather shoes with my green velvet dress. Remember me?

molly madonna

P.S. A few days ago, Henry asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I went on for a minute about how I didn’t really need anything, and how the things I’d pick out were more expensive than necessary anyway. “I know you don’t need anything, Mom, but what do you want?” Maybe the whole idea of you is just that, Santa. Maybe your heart is like Henry’s, wanting to understand the hearts of everyone else. The world could use a bit more of that, I think. I’ll leave the light on for you.