I'm sitting watching the steam rise off my cup of tea this morning, listening to the beginnings of stirring in the house,  and I'm feeling...content.  These last few days of togetherness, of late mornings and movies and cozy fires have been such a lovely way to round out the holidays.  These last weeks of the year have a sweet, knitting effect on us.
 
A few nights ago, late into the evening I heard a voice floating above the noise of the tv.  I turned down the volume to find that my boy was singing himself to sleep upstairs.  Although I couldn't make out the words, I knew his song was entirely his own.  It is a contented and thoroughly loved child who can sing himself to sleep with the song of his heart.

As we look towards the new year and our family time winds down, as we return to schedules and travel and busyness, I pray that God puts His song in each of our hearts.  A song of joy, a song of contentment, a song of grace.

"But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you." Psalm 5:11

Kimberly

I am woefully behind in my wrapping, baking and general merry making.  Michael has been sick and in bed for days, and I have been head nurse to this cursed illness.  My poor man.  I don't make a very patient nurse.  The irony that I used to make a living at nursing does not escape me here.

Michael and I are in a constant battle of one-upmanship when it comes to who has felt the sickest, the longest, with the most pain.  Yesterday he suggested that his stomach pain was what he expected labor pains feel like.  I think even Santa's Merry Elves in the North Pole could hear my laughter.

Wishing you a healthy and labor free Christmas!

Kimberly



 

I have days that are all fireworks and twinkle lighted, castle bound joy.


Today, I'm unwrapping the gift of finding joy in the mess.  I'm trudging up and down the basement stairs, looking with my eyes at the mess, but seeing with my heart, the joy.

The joy of having a family to call my own. Kids to pick up after and a husband's dry cleaning to drop off.  Cozy flannel sheets to launder and homemade meals to prepare.  Bags to unpack and a crazy fun vacation from which to recover.  There can be joy in the mess, but sometimes it requires looking through a love filter.  Not the rose tinted kind, but the love filter that clarifies and refines and makes the real rise to the top.

Kimberly

I'll be taking a wee blogging break this week.  I hope you have a lovely week in the midst of the mad dash.   I'm off to make some memories that will likely involve fancy dress, more than one tearful breakdown of epic proportions, screams and squeals, and complete sensory overload.  And no, I am not describing my last trip to the mall (although, oddly enough, it sounds exactly like my last trip to the mall).

Have a happy week!

Kimberly

First Snow of the season today.  Big, beautiful flakes sticking just enough to make me happy.  I suppose I will have to get used to the idea of all snow all the time when we move to Switzerland.  Michael was there this week for the first big snowfall of their winter season.  He was warned not to tell me about the bitter cold, but decided to do so by sending this photo.


He further softened the arctic blow with bags of Swiss chocolate.  Well played, Michael.  Well played.

As the snow fell outside this afternoon, we warmed to the stage lights at Rachel's annual Christmas performance.  This show, her last before our move, was bittersweet.  When we return, she will be too old to participate.  If we return...

Fairy lights from morning 'til night

Fingertips in Dear Santa

Forgiveness

A daughter who believes that she will one day have three children that will be called Snowflake, Pink and Pixie Dust

Fresh starts

Peppermint Hot Chocolate

The Message

Being married to a man who understands why these boots complete me

After a Thanksgiving that proved to be painfully beautiful, we spent a Together Day outside, enjoying the last of fall.   Leaves were raked and beds prepared for winter.  The dead was removed and made ready for the fresh start to come. The last of the sun's warmth was soaked into cold weather skin and the hammock swung with legs, arms and giggles.  I gave Thanks... for the pruning, removing and readying of my heart as well as my home.

Kimberly

I'm linking up to Tuesday's Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.  Emily encourages us to take a closer look at our everyday and seek out the given gifts.  Even if they're painfully beautiful.