Our Thanksgiving Break doesn't really start until tomorrow, but it almost feels like it has already begun. I love the holidays, but no one can deny that they bring a bit of extra stress. Everyone in the house has some type of bug right now. The morning started off, (after being awakened at half hour intervals throughout the night) with my poor four year old vomiting all over herself and me and our immediate surroundings. The two year old is streaming snot, and the baby is fussy and nursing constantly, and while I am very glad she is getting the antibodies to help her stay healthy, I feel drained, both figuratively and literally. I have class in an hour. Thanksgiving is going to be at our place. And I will stop now, but you get the idea.
**********LOL. I was interrupted (surprise, surprise) and saved a draft but didn't close the window. Apparently Ariana got on the computer afterwards and decided to post it. Some of you may have been scratching your heads at the title (as an aside, do you know of anyone besides fictional characters who does that to indicate puzzlement? I've never seen it in real life that I can recall). Anyway, you probably decided that I was just desperate for a peaceful moment. ************
I think everyone has seemingly insignificant moments that stick in our minds and draw us back over and over. One of my favorite holiday memories happened over 10 years ago when I was feeling just as stressed as I was this morning. Like snowcream, it brings a bit of sweet coolness to an overheated day.
I was gearing up for finals, and for some reason that I've forgotten (if I ever knew it), I spent the evening with some acquaintances instead of studying. If I had been with some friends, it would have been great. The people I was with were nice, but we had nothing in common, and I felt out of place. We ended up in a horribly stuffy smoke-filled room where I watched the people around me drink and play pool (I do neither, and it wasn't a particularly entertaining spectator sport). It was so crowded it could induce clausterphobia. I had a headache from the cigarette smoke and was starting to have an asthma attack, and the overworked heater in there was making me feel feverish, so I slipped out for a few minutes and walked to a nearby cafe.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I could suddenly breathe. The cacophony was cut off, the air was delightfully clean and crisp, the sky was the deep cobalt of a clear winter evening, and the heavenly hosts were dancing. It was glorious. I felt such a peace and stillness inside. I knew I was in God's presence. I had a lovely walk to the cafe and was warmed on the way back with a rich white chocolate mocha.
That's it. No deep revelation, exactly, but ever since that night I've been able to close my eyes and take a deep breath and feel the stillness of that moment, the quiet in my soul. It is a moment I will be reliving many times in the next few weeks.