Although I do believe in celebrating Epiphany in it's 12 days after Christmas Day entirety, my Christmas tree is still up. Part of it is it's in a room I never go in. Part of it is I'm just not ready to put it away. Every single year I feel the same. Even though I didn't work in retail this Christmas, even though I participated in so much of the liturgical tradition this year, even though I attempted (and failed miserably) at celebrating Advent - I just don't feel like the season has soaked in enough. I don't feel like the peace of Christmas really got into the heart of who I am. So, I'm not taking it down. Yet.
Maybe it was because I scheduled my first real confession just a few days before Christmas. Oh, don't freak out. I have, do, and will forever believe that God hears my prayers, confessions, whiny moments and tears just as well from anywhere I happen to be as He did from a priest's office. But, I needed a big do-over in some ways and that's how I chose to make that happen. More about that another time. Maybe.
I'm living in the aftermath of having a book published. It's such a wonderful season, but starting work on my next book makes me miss so much being able to do research by sitting down with the monks and letting them tell me about God. I miss observing their lives and learning from their example. I don't think there's a second book about the monasteries, but in a little bit of a homesick way, I wish there was.
I'm also loving only having one job. I'm loving getting close to finishing up school. I'm finding it pure luxury to stay home in my pajamas and write papers and the occasional page or two of a book. I'm learning about slowing down and living intentionally. I've returned to a daily yoga practice and a jogging schedule. I'm doing fun stuff that I haven't had time for in years. I'm finding God in small ways and big ways every step of the way. True Confession? I've never loved Him more.
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