I am neither Mexican nor Catholic, yet I love the Virgin of Guadalupe.  Looking back I realize I got that, too, from Mama.  She was so soft spoken and I always wondered why the red headed lady who spent most of her life Methodist loved her so.  But after all, Our Lady of Guadalupe is the Mother of God who appeared to a poor Aztec Indian named Cuauhtlatoatzin, baptized Juan Diego.  On his way to attend Mass the morning of December 9, 1531, he crossed a desolate hill and she first appeared to him, declaring herself to be the Virgin Mary, the Mother of Jesus Christ.  She told him it was her desire to have a church constructed on that hill and asked him to relay that message to the Bishop.  It was no easy task to be granted an audience with the top prelate, but he was persistent and was finally admitted.  The incredulous Bishop demanded he be provided with some proof of the unlikely encounter.  On December 12, 1531 the Virgin Mary appeared to Juan Diego for the final time on that hill.  In his Native language, Nahuatl, she asked him to go collect roses, which had never grown on the barren, desolate soil — much less in mid-winter.  He was instructed to give them to the Bishop as the proof he required.  Juan Diego gathered up the miraculous blooms in his mantle and returned once again to the Bishop.  As he let the roses spill forth, to the wonder of all assembled a perfect image of the Virgin was revealed emblazoned on Juan Diego’s cloak.  Researchers have studied the phenomenon and there have been many examinations of the image of the Virgin imprinted on Juan Diego’s ayate.  The Blessed Virgin’s eyes not only contain the image of Juan Diego kneeling before her, but rigorous investigations by leading oculists found all the optical image qualities of a normal human eye.  Infrared radiation photography confirmed, besides the lack of paint and brush strokes, no corrections, no underlying sketch, no sizing used to render the surface smooth, and no varnish covering the image to protect its surface.  The preservation for over 480 years of the cloth and its unfaded image is astounding.  The tilma on which the Sacred Image of the Blessed Virgin is imprinted is handwoven from the fibers of the Maguey cactus, a fabric which has a life span of little more than thirty years.  It is six and a half feet long by three and a half feet wide with a seam running down the middle.  The luminous light surrounding Our Lady is reminiscent of “the woman clothed with the sun” mentioned in Revelations 12:1.  Her foot rests upon the moon, again referenced in Revelations 12:1 as that of the woman who has “the moon under her feet.”  The stars on the Blessed Virgin’s mantle are in the same configuration as they were in the heavens on that winter solstice morning of December 12, 1531.  It is believed Our Lady used the Nahuatl word “coatlaxopeuh” which is pronounced “quatlasupe” and sounds remarkably like the Spanish word “Guadalupe.”  Pope John Paul II beatified Juan Diego in 1990, and canonized him in 2002, making him the first indigenous American saint, and declared Our Lady of Guadalupe the “Mother of the Americas.”  Without my earthly mother I am grateful for the solace and refuge I find in our heavenly mother.  I know the Blessed Mother was with her when she transitioned from this life into the next.  And now I look for symbols of the love my mother instilled in me.  They are all around — in the whisper of rose petals, the sweet smell of lilies, the gentle smile of a mother.

Hail Mary, full of grace.
Our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

When I was a little girl I LIVED for our Advent calendar!  It was cardboard and Mama hung it on our wall each year.  With 25 numbered little “door” flaps, they opened to reveal sweet drawings inside leading up to Christmas Day.  I could not wait to see what the next one held.  Life was so full of wonder and surprise.  Of course I have observed Advent in church all these years but in growing up somehow I lost the mystery of it all.  I still enjoyed the Advent wreaths with their candles but it just wasn’t the same.  And then several years ago I discovered Jacquie Lawson on the internet.  She created the most enchanting animated Advent calendars.  (Actually I believe it all started with an online Christmas card.)  They are true works of beauty and magic — the music, the animals, the art, the technology; it was all there!  With that she enabled an adult to regain the joy and wonder of childhood.  What an incredible, indescribable feat.  I became so engrossed in her little online created world, watching the people go by walking dogs or seeing them sitting on benches visiting.  Just when I did not think it could become any more fantastic I discovered the scenes went from day to night!  Then there was an information center filled with facts about the history of flowers, classical art, and music with fun puzzles to play.  Best of all she created a virtual tree decorating and the snow flake maker!  Soon even my husband got drawn in.  Our little girl is four now and this is the first year she may remember Christmas.  This Advent calendar has made her eyes sparkle in a way that I know no tangible gift can.  We give to the St. Joseph’s Lakota Indian School and they mailed an advent calendar with stickers as a thank you.  From old versions of traditions to new, Christians around the world anticipate and celebrate the coming of the birth of Christ.  The Twelve Days of Christmas signify the time it took after the Savior’s birth for the Wise Men to follow the Star and make the journey to worship Him, culminating in Epiphany.  Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias said:

“Wonder knows that while you cannot look at the light, you cannot look at anything else without it.  It is not exhausted by childhood, but finds its key there.  It is a journey like a walk through the woods over the usual obstacles and around the common distractions while the voice of direction leads, saying, ‘This is the way, walk ye in it.'”

My daddy used to quote the British philosophical writer James Allen saying, “As a man thinketh in his heart, so shall he be.”  I have begun to realize how our homes are really reflections and physical manifestations of our thoughts and desires.  They show who we are, what we value, and what we believe.  I chose to post pictures of some of our plaques.  The top ones hang above our entryway.  I doubt anyone realizes it, but they remain nonetheless, serving as silent sentinels for all who enter.  The bottom picture is one of my favorites and I have always found the poet’s name, Edward A. Guest, an irony.  It is my hope that anyone who comes into our home feels welcome.  It is also my hope that anyone reading this blog feels the same.

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. ~ Matthew 6:21

When most people think Christmas, I believe their minds go to red and green.  Mine has always gone to blue and white.  Blue references the Ever Blessed Virgin Mother Mary and white, the purity of Jesus Christ.  This is how I’ve always thought of it, anyway.  Since I have spent nearly all my life in an apartment I loved putting up the tree with my family but we could never decorate outside.  Eight years ago after I married and we got back from our honeymoon one of the first things I did was to ask Burk if I could buy a nativity scene for the house.  I think he was a little startled given it was July, but he happily consented.  And so began my epic quest for the Holy Family in all its 1970’s era plastic splendor.  In the broiling heat of summer I found Mary, Joseph, the Baby Jesus, the donkey, the cow, the shepherd with his sheep, the three Wise Men AND the camel they rode in on!  Plus the Star of Bethlehem of course. Last year after Mama died I realized I did not have an angel.  She’s bigger than the rest of my set but then I began to wonder; maybe they are bigger than we are.  Psalms 91:11 says:

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

When I plugged her in to see if she’d work my then three year old came up to her and kissed her reverently on the lips.  It was one of the most moving things I’ve seen and I just happened to capture the moment.  I hope when someone drives by our house and looks up the true meaning of Christmas shines though.

Tecumseh, the great Native American leader of the Shawnee, said, “When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength.  Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.  If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.”  I bought the little sign pictured above recently and I keep it in our kitchen.  I see it every morning as I’m making coffee.  My father showed me the joy of finding joy.  It is all around us everyday regardless of our circumstances.  I chose this day to launch my blog.  The name is a metaphor for the hidden gems we all have at our feet … some we work for; others we simply stumble upon.  Seashells are wondrous works of art Mother Nature has given us all.  Carousels represent the cycles of life as well as its ups and downs.  Some turns go faster than others and some we wish would move more slowly.  My Daddy used to say that time and tide wait for no man.  I hope this will be a place of reflection and source of happiness for any who visit.  Achukma hoke.

Thanks for Provision

Almighty and gracious Father, we give you thanks for the fruits of the earth in their season and for the labors of those who harvest them.  Make us, we beseech thee, faithful stewards of thy great bounty, for the provision of our necessities and the relief of all who are in need, to the glory of thy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.

A Song of Ascents

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. ~ Psalm 121

My father used to carry around a New Testament Bible wherever he went.  It was always beat up because he read it constantly.  I wonder what he would think about the entire Bible being downloaded onto not only my iPhone but my Apple Watch as well.  Scripture at your fingertips in any form is always a comfort.  I love the Psalms and this one in particular.  Thank you Daddy for instilling in me a love of God’s Word.  Achukma hoke.

My parents taught me to pray before every meal and at bedtime.  Since we were very close the three of us were often together and we all held hands and heard each other’s prayers.  Now my husband and I do the same with our daughter.  I especially love the complines as I find them peaceful.  The matins are wonderful for starting your day with positivity, hope and direction.  I believe the sweetest prayers are often from children.  Our daughter just prayed for the little plastic hedgehogs that go in the dryer to soften clothes!  So God bless Spike and Tumbleweed.  And God bless you.

The Lord bless you and keep you;
The Lord make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you;
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace. ~ Numbers 6:24-26

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. ~ Hebrews 11:1

It was my father’s favorite scripture.  And it became mine.  I find it interesting that “faith” is both a noun and a verb.  To me they are intertwined; you cannot have one without the other.  The one time I lost my faith was after our second round of in vitro.  The doctors said, due to an error on their part, it was almost impossible for me to conceive.  We had no problems other than we were older.  I was so sure if I ever had a little girl her middle name would be Faith.  When I did get pregnant my endocrinologist begged me not to tell anyone even after I had passed my first trimester.  I had a wonderful, easy pregnancy and she was born on my late father’s birthday.  Her middle name is Grace because in the end it was by the grace of God when I had lost my faith.  She is a daily reminder of God’s goodness and I strive to be better because of her.  My parents are gone but she lives on in them.