In the thick of it

Dear Laurel,

   This week is like a grand houseparty for my family--a visitor from the other side of the world, two grown up kids back from far away, and the one who has been here all along leaving for England while everyone else is still here.  Even though Christmas Eve is still to come it feels like we must have passed it days ago--with good food, Grandpa's prayers at the table, games, and stories from all the worldwide experiences, everyday has been a high point.    The midnight Christmas Eve service will be the diamond in the crown, though, with songs of joy and quiet thanks for the Unspeakable Gift.  Wishing you the dearest of Christmas blessings~

All my best,
Kate

Christmas is creeping in

Dear Cal,

   I'm in the mode, and Christmas has been quietly creeping into my world--into my office, my house, and my soul.  I've taken the slow but steady approach and am quite happy about it.  Tonight I finished dressing the tree and packed the boxes back into the garage.  While I was working with the ornaments I felt that wonderful, growing excitement that I think everyone wants to feel.  Now from where I sit I can see the nativity figures set out among my books--my statement that Christ came for real people living real lives.  Thanks for the card, I'll be sending mine soon.

All my best,
Kate

I'm not there yet

Dear Sonja,

  Do you feel pushed this year?  I can't believe the feeling of Christmas pressure that caught me by surprise this evening.  The first card of the season arrived in my mailbox today.  The neighbors on both sides have their outdoor lights up and shining brightly. The ads are talking hurry, hurry and won't last long!  Stop. It's only December 1st, I just turned my calendar today. I'm not behind, and I haven't missed anything. I had to take half a second to refocus.  My method of peaceful preparation is simply different than theirs.  If that pressure tries to bite you just tell it no.  See you soon!

All my best,
Kate

A beautiful way of seeing

Dear Laurel,

  I smiled the whole way through this short video--couldn't help it, because he's right. I loved the colors and the questions and the ideas.  I think you'll love it, too.  (I found the link at CuriousAcorn.)

All my best,
Kate

Hospitality

The Rune of Hospitality

I saw a stranger yestreen;

I put food in the eating place;

Drink in the drinking place;

Music in the listening place;

And, in the sacred name of the Triune,

He blessed myself and my house,

My cattle and my dear ones.

And the lark said in her song,

Often, often, often,

Goes the Christ in the strangers guise,

Often, often, often,

Goes the Christ in the strangers guise.

Dear Sarah,

  My copy of this Rune of Hospitality has been on my kitchen wall since I bought it at St. Margaret's in London in 1979.  When I got home from that trip I immediately went looking through my collection of vintage picture frames and found the perfect thing with a bit of blue and gilt around the edges; it fits in where ever I live.  This little card doesn't hang as art in my kitchen. It's a life directive for me, not my guests, so I always put it out of the way in my workspace (glad for the glass that protects it).   It has become part of how I think.  Glad to share my secret, thanks for asking.

All my best,
Kate

Thanksgiving

Wishing you a day filled with peace and with gratitude for blessings past, present, and yet to come.

All my best,
Kate

Lemon Pie

Dear Friends,

I made this pie to celebrate what would have been my father's 80th birthday.  He died so long ago that I can't even begin to imagine him in old age.  In our family we remember our dearly loveds on their birthdays by doing something they enjoyed or by preparing their favorite food.  It's a wonderful way to keep the good memories flowing, and to teach the young ones about those who are already gone.  I emphasize the idea of good memories.  The story of life with my father is not an easy one.  We lived through a kind of hardship that most people could not, and did not begin to understand. When I was in college he asked me to forgive him for being the kind of father he'd been.  I agreed; I knew there was no other way for me to live.  When I said yes I had no idea of the journey ahead.  I didn't realize that I'd have to forgive him over and over again--every time I remembered or thought of the bad times, I'd have to return to my commitment to forgive and then say yes, again. I do not regret the commitment or the hard work of it.  I'm able to enjoy the memories of the good things, I've been able to tell my kids an honest but healthy version of the real story, and best of all when my dad died we were friends.  I was pleased to honor my father on his birthday, and I look forward to seeing him in heaven where all things will be made new.

All my best,
Kate