One Christmas dinner cleaned up.
Two siblings (and their baby) come and gone.
Three kiddies tucked in bed.
Four salt trucks passing by.
Five figurines gathered around the Babe.
Six dirty socks in the hamper.
Seven shoes lined up by the door. (One is yet on the loose.)
Eight candles still flickering.
Nine rooms making up a home.
Ten times ten blessings, today alone.

I've been thinking about Christmas. (Who hasn't been?)

About the Why and also about the How.

My tendancy, I confess, is to get caught up in the details. I like to make things work and I like things to work well. Food, gifts, the house? Not just food, gifts, and a house, but works of art. After all, I know the Why of these things, I know that there is meaning behind the traditions and rituals of Christmas. The problem is that sometimes I forget that my children don't know just because I know. And sometimes when I realize this, in the moment of desperate reaction, I let the pendulum swing a bit to forcefully.

Last year I wanted to throw it all out. You know, forget about the wrapping and special recipes and lights strung just so. It seemed to interfere with what really matters. But this year I am reminded of why we have traditions; why we work so hard to create moments.

This afternoon as I wrapped three gifts, pulled out the already-worn red tablecloth, lit the candles, and called for holiday music, the atmosphere of my home transported me to a hundred different memories, all of them full of colors and scents and sounds that, at first glance, might not seem to have much to do with spirituality but, because of how my parents handled those moments, are today rich for me with soul stirring and awakening. Red and green aren't just red and green. Candles aren't just candles. Special foods and pretty tables and wire ribbons and silver bells are all, for me, pointers to the Gift of Life.

It's not a new revelation that the How isn't the problem and that my focus is the problem. And it's definitely not a new revelation that my own efforts at changing simply don't work. What is new is the faith I have this year that He is changing my heart and, yes, my ability to lead my children.

You see, I've never considered myself a good leader or much of a visionary, but apparently He sees me as enough of one to have entrusted three lives to my care. And regardless of how prone I am to getting lost in the details--in the How--He wants to teach me how to keep the bigger picture--the Why--as my minute-by-minute, day-by-day goal so that my children are given the gift of experiencing Him in their humanity. The blessing is that He wants to teach. He doesn't expect me to figure it out on my own.

So this December 1st, I am not feeling a bit overwhelmed by the lists or hopes or Hows. I am looking forward to many a candelit evening and lots of tasty treats... I am looking forward to reading stories, snuggling in flannel pajamas, singing carols and Rudolf with gusto, and unwrapping the presents under the tree... I am looking forward to teaching and showing my children how every bit of human beauty, treasure, emotion, and sentimentality is a tool of the Spirit to draw our hearts back to the peace and hope of His Son.