Dear 2016

** Originally I planned to share this blog post next week, as a 2016 wrap up, but who am I kidding? I'll have 239482983749238740 Christmas celebrations to share with you next week! So let's just move this little bit of reminiscent fun up to today and unwrap gifts together next week, mmmmmkay? ** 

Dear 2016:

Well, you were just a year of dreams coming true, weren't you?

We welcomed you with much celebration, in the home of friends that we had no idea would move far away from us within a year's time:

And less than one month had passed before we walked through a house - "just for funsies" - and ended up falling madly and hopelessly in love with that little house and the hope of what could be if it - gulp - could be ours! The journey that followed was a hang-onto-your-hat rush of faith building that we are grateful for in so many ways.

And while all that was happening, you kept rushing on, 2016. We spent time together, enjoying things like surprise dates:

...and hosting friends in our home - all the while knowing our time in that home was probably about to come to an end:

The faith journey kicked into high gear, with much sorting and purging and packing and stacking and planning:

And before we knew what was happening, 2016,you brought along a HUGE dream. come. true.

A new home - all ours. And even though it was "move in ready," you know we're the Shaffers, and we can't go without a couple of projects:

And so the renovations and the moving went, eating up far more weeks out of the year than we planned, and accomplished only because of the village of friends who pitched in to help. But even all the work was a dream come true, because we were taking a house and making it our very own.

And 2016, you brought another huge dream come true/answer to prayer, too:

We are so thrilled for the new owner and the legacy our first home is already carrying on. Moving out was hard, but easy at the same time, because we knew this place would be so loved.

2016, you brought the joy of settling into our new home and making it ours, and rarely a day passes {TRULY!!} that we don't express out loud our love for our home and the opportunities we have in this new place.

You also brought the opportunity to leave home a few times and see new places and enjoy some much needed rest and friend/family time!

You brought along the chance for us to minister in our own ways, together and separately {and OH how much we love the together part}.

2016, in you we realized the dream of hosting friends and fun in our home!

And you brought the joy of celebrating newness and milestones all over:

Oh 2016, you still have a little over a week left, and we intend to fully embrace every last minute of you, but we are grateful for all we've lived in you so far. Cannot wait to see what adventures await in 2017!!

Nativity Memories

Happy podcast Tuesday! We bring your Christmas greetings, tales of our sledding this past weekend, memories of our favorite gifts from our childhood, and a throwback to my first ever moment on radio. {I was just a baby!} Merry Christmas from Spill the Beans!

Click here to listen.

 I had the opportunity to join a writer's group earlier this year, and it allows me to not only do some additional writing to share in areas beyond this blog, but it has given me the chance to meet new friends that have encouraged me!

This week, I was emailing back and forth with a couple of my new friends, responding to a writing prompt that I thought was just for fun, but when I got done, I decided I might want to share it with you! :) It seemed fitting in this week leading up to Christmas. Maybe as you read along, you'll think of decorations in your own home {Nativities or otherwise} that hold special meaning!

***

The blessing and curse of being the much-youngest in a family is that your life is filled with hand-me-downs. It's a blessing, because you are gifted with things you could not otherwise afford, but a curse because you have no say in what you receive - or perhaps, what you don't. You just smile gratefully and accept the gifts sent your way.

The ceramics craze of the 80's piqued my mother's interests and provided the only craft hobby I ever remember her taking up in her now-80 years. Each Christmas, she would make a gift for all the ladies of the family. Everyone had to open their gifts simultaneously because they all matched, but they were all received with much joy.

And I missed out on every one of them. 

I was still in elementary school and it was completely impractical to paint house decor for a ten year old, so I opened boxes of books, dolls, and other age-appropriate treasures while my sisters, cousins, aunt, and grandma opened their matching ceramic gifts.

When my great-grandma died at the age of 100 even (her goal, and she didn't over-achieve), my grandma cleaned out her nursing home room and distributed all her remaining belongings among the family members. The rule of thumb was to give each item back to the original giver. And so it was that Mom got back the green shiny tree with plastic bulbs and the white-with-pearl-glaze Holy Family she'd painted for Gran. Since she'd made one of each for herself already, she boxed them up and put them away for my someday.

That's how I came to catch up with the family on owning the ceramic treasures, and for years, it was the only sort of Nativity I owned. Mary and Joseph were one ceramic piece, buried beneath flowing robes that spread out, apparently, to cover the manger, and a tiny baby Jesus nestled in the ceramic cove. To be fair, He was glued in, because ceramic robes are slippery and He'd have fallen right out without the dab of super glue.

Five years ago, now, I flew to Kansas for Thanksgiving, to spend the holiday with my sister and brother-in-law. The day after Thanksgiving in a town of less than 2000 doesn't offer much in the way of Black Friday sales, but it does make for charming local shopping at little stores, and we toured the town before coming back to decorate the house for Christmas. It was in the one little decor-holding store that I found it: a little resin nativity scene that reminded me so much of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, a book my mom read me every year when I was little.

To be fair, the kids in this Nativity looked a whole lot more serene than the Herdman bunch, but there was something about it that I found irresistible. Mary is sitting down, legs straight out in front of her, cradling that Baby without any danger of dropping Him. Joseph is in overalls and a turtleneck, keeping a careful watch over Mary and the Baby. The angel's socks are slouching, the shepherd's head is glued on {run-in with the floor, I imagine, back on the store shelves}, and the three wise men are wearing towel capes and carry the dearest of toys: a block, a truck, and a train engine.

Not the most biblically accurate in the world, but it reminds me so much of the truth of childlike faith and the great lessons from that book I loved so much, that I had to have them. The store wrapped them carefully for me, and they made it through the flight home without further damage.

I love that little set and put it out with much joy every year.

Of course there is always the dream for a more sophisticated, grown-up Nativity, like a Willow Tree set or some other such treasure. But in the meantime, these hold dear meaning, and for that I am grateful.

Rest...Heard of It?

Yesterday was supposed to be our family Christmas with Ryan's mom's side of the family. Christmas in the log cabin is always picturesque. It's the kind of Christmas that when I married into the family, I thought fully encapsulated what Christmas was supposed to look like. Lots of family, lots of kids, lots of excitement, lots of food, and, well, of course - the log cabin in the woods.

{I'm not kidding. Photo credit to Nita for this, but see what I mean??}

But when ice covered central Indiana overnight from Friday into Saturday, and when the forecast called for more of the same, plus sub-zero temperatures for Sunday, the decision was made to err on the side of safety and delay Christmas until a warmer (?), safer day.

Our church bent toward safety, too, canceling services yesterday, so Ryan and I were presented with one of our favorite things: a snow day!

Ryan got up before I did {because left to my own devices, I will not exit a bed until the last possible minute} and had the kitchen buzzing with biscuits, gravy, eggs, and coffee by the time I finally peeked out with bedhead and a purple bathrobe wrapped all around me.

A lazy morning of breakfast, coffee, and church on TV followed by naps, football, scrapbooking, more naps, more coffee, more football, and twinkly lights shining from Grizzy in the corner made for pretty much the perfect day.

It's not Christmas in a log cabin, to be sure. We had to concoct an alternative dinner plan that wasn't quite as delicious as Allen's pancakes with homemade maple syrup, but even with those adjustments, it was a good day.

Christmas in the Midwest falls to the mercy of the weather more than any of us want to admit. Flights are canceled and people who planned to come home...can't. Parties have to be postponed. Christmas programs get moved. It's disappointing to young and old alike, for sure, when the calendar, already stuffed full of activities, has to be altered.

But sometimes we need rest more than we need the happenings. That whole silent night and heavenly peace thing isn't just for the songs. It's for us, too. It's for those of us who are worn out from making lots of memories. It's for those of us who have overextended in every way to make things perfect for the kids. It's for those of us who are juggling extra jobs on top of extra get-togethers. It's for those of us who are fighting to get well (or stay well) amid a sea of germs.

We don't do it well - the choosing rest. Sometimes we have to bend to the mercy of the weather, swallow the disappointment, and learn to be okay with a plan B sort of celebration. And in the middle of it all, it might just be good for us to think about this thing called rest that has just been offered to us.