Yes, I'm a day late on #adventword2017. I'm still on #open when today's word is #embrace. I thought about open when I first picked up the list of words for Advent. My thoughts went to a poem by Emily Dickinson. Since then, I've moved on like my Mary and Joseph.
My granddaughter loves the picture above because she says her aunt is looking at the Holy Family. She says she is, too, but her head is barely showing. I thought about cleaning up the end table for the picture, but I decided this year to be open in how my house truly looks. My choices for posting the picture below were either "don't post" or "be real" since I noticed the lack of baseboards and something (a bug?) showing after we took the picture.
When I think of Mary and Joseph, I realize the place that was "open" for them could hardly have made the front cover of a decorating magazine. But, when you're about to give birth and the inns are closed, you "embrace" what you have.
Being "open" with our homes, with our lives, with our hearts, minds, and souls takes courage because we can't control every aspect of our lives. There are times and seasons for being closed -- sleep is a good time; times of recharging are good times. My hope is to "embrace" open and closed, each appropriately, wisely, and well so that I and all I come into contact with can flourish in messy love, joy, and peace.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could embrace each other with love? Wouldn't it be lovely if we could enjoy being with those with decorating skills (it takes being open to be willing to share one's talents) and with those of us whose skills are elsewhere (it takes being open to be willing to share in the midst of our messiness)?
Here is where Mary and Joseph are now, under a tree with crooked candles, watched by an angel handmade by my husband when he was in grade school. Sigh, as I look over at the lamp where I took the picture, I bet there's dust showing, too. Open. Messy. Real. Grateful. I have a lamp and I have a roof over my head. God loves me. He loves you, too.
My granddaughter loves the picture above because she says her aunt is looking at the Holy Family. She says she is, too, but her head is barely showing. I thought about cleaning up the end table for the picture, but I decided this year to be open in how my house truly looks. My choices for posting the picture below were either "don't post" or "be real" since I noticed the lack of baseboards and something (a bug?) showing after we took the picture.
When I think of Mary and Joseph, I realize the place that was "open" for them could hardly have made the front cover of a decorating magazine. But, when you're about to give birth and the inns are closed, you "embrace" what you have.
Being "open" with our homes, with our lives, with our hearts, minds, and souls takes courage because we can't control every aspect of our lives. There are times and seasons for being closed -- sleep is a good time; times of recharging are good times. My hope is to "embrace" open and closed, each appropriately, wisely, and well so that I and all I come into contact with can flourish in messy love, joy, and peace.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could embrace each other with love? Wouldn't it be lovely if we could enjoy being with those with decorating skills (it takes being open to be willing to share one's talents) and with those of us whose skills are elsewhere (it takes being open to be willing to share in the midst of our messiness)?
Here is where Mary and Joseph are now, under a tree with crooked candles, watched by an angel handmade by my husband when he was in grade school. Sigh, as I look over at the lamp where I took the picture, I bet there's dust showing, too. Open. Messy. Real. Grateful. I have a lamp and I have a roof over my head. God loves me. He loves you, too.
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