On Thursday, for Epiphany, I chalked my door with the ancient formula 20+C+M+B+11, which remembers the three travelers, Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar, who left families and kingdoms to follow a starry hope and bring worship to a child King. For the rest of the year, it reminds me to pray every time I enter: Christus Mansionem Benedicat–May Christ bless this house.
On Saturday, I visited a church with friends Cathee, Bryan and daughter Sarah, and fell in love with the indoor tree two stories tall covered with a thousand white lights. We sang Joy to the World one last time.
On Sunday, we celebrated the Baptism of Jesus and the final day of the Christmas season.
The advent wreath burned fiercely and quickly in a phoenix fire, to be remade anew in eleven months. The scent of pine and rosemary filled my little home, a clean and pungent smell of new beginnings.
Christmas decorations were put away in their little box.
The Liturgy of the Hours book changed from the blue volume to the brown one (with a pressed four-leaf clover tucked in its pages).
The first day of Ordinary time.
Yet, extraordinarily full of grace.
Young Jack memorizing and singing to me the third verse of O Come all ye faithful, just in time to end the season.
Pages and pages of hand-written dissertation…embracing the one way of writing that never fills me with anxiety, but with peace and beauty and gives my thoughts time to collect.
Lunches and dinners and tea times with friends.
Worship… the morning dancing-shaker-eggs-guitar-praise of Bethany and the contemplative chants and incense of St Paul’s evening eucharist.
Visiting St Ignatius Chapel, a work of art. (More photos here.)
Ministry and teaching possibilities.
The fun of burning real Frankincense.
Snow falling slowly.
Bus drivers who stop between stops and give late-running me a ride.
Thai red curry. (Yummy!!)