celebration of divine goodness
I’m lingering in the in-between. It is the changing of the seasons. Right now there are pumpkins on our mantel and a cinnamon harvest candle with a wick that no longer burns. It is called Gather. I bought it more for the hope than the scent.
In the next twenty-four hours, there will be pine scent and rich, smooth hot chocolate. Too many white lights will twinkle and the stockings will be hung.
I’ve been considering what it means to decorate with wisdom and whimsy. I consider whimsy and wisdom a lot these days. In 2020, I went from wanting to be a woman of wisdom and whimsy to accepting that I am a woman of wisdom and whimsy.
It is a significant transformation.
Too often humans keep wanting or praying or desiring something they already are. I’ve prayed for many years for wisdom and whimsy to permeate my life, and this year I realized that it’s time to start living as a woman of wisdom and whimsy, rather than someone who is still hoping for it to happen.
Celebration is both wise and whimsical, which is why I’m struck by the definition of thanksgiving: a celebration of divine goodness. Rather than an attitude of gratitude, which I expected to find when searching the definition for thanksgiving, I find it is a celebration of divine goodness.
I’ve learned that celebration doesn’t have to stem from an external event. It can be an internal posture. We just celebrated American Thanksgiving. It is a lovely event, and a day when we bring gratitude to the top of our hearts and the forefront of our conversations.
The more I think about the definition of thanksgiving, the more I realize that it is not an event. It is an internal posture of my heart. It is a celebration.
My kids are becoming super big kids. They are barreling towards independence, and Andy and I are learning to let go in new ways. I find the same feelings as when Sam moved from infant cuddles to toddler discovery. I missed the previous stage, but I want to embrace the current stage. I made a commitment to the infant-Sam to always allow the current stage to be my favorite.
This commitment was sometimes muddied as we slogged through rocky years with the girls. However, as I listened to deep voices from my teenage sons calling me Mom, I renewed my desire to always allow the current stage to be my favorite.
Rolling into Christmas, I am lingering in the in-between. The kids are grasping for independence and clinging to the security of family. They are pushing and pulling. I find myself in a precarious position of waiting for their signals to determine whether we are rolling into the next season of parenting or lingering in the previous season.
It seems the transformation is not as rapid as swapping out the Gather candle for Christmas goodness. As I consider how to decorate with wisdom and whimsy, I will also celebrate the divine goodness of parenting with wisdom and whimsy.