We’re here in the third week of advent, the joy week. And last week? Last week was the peace week of advent, and mine, it was polar opposite of peaceful.
This year, I’d been longing for winter and advent and Christmas like no year before. My soul longed for winter’s hush, a slowing of the rush, quiet focus on Jesus, simplicity, and finding ways to be a gift to others. 


First day of advent was a slice of Christmas. Warm lights twinkling, candles glowing, home perfumed with evergreen, and stillness made my heart sing. But like any calm before a violent storm, peace was shattered into a billion shards–quite literally. 
Peace week, my peace week was tumultuous. Wave upon wave of heart crushing news, soul bruising words, and the weight of feeling unloved, unwelcome, and rejected because of the inability to live up to others’ expectations and standards. Ever been there? Let me share this; you will never, ever measure up, and neither will I. And you know what? We don’t have to keep climbing, keep fighting, keep struggling. Jesus came down to carry us up. I am weary, bone weary, of carrying the fear of breaking people’s rules and being rejected. I’ve been literally drowning in fear. But, He came down. He came down to the very depths to carry me. And all I had to do was trust. I didn’t have to legalistically keep rules and try to measure up because he is the Ruler.
Jesus and Jesus alone is the standard, the measure-er, the ruler.
Peace week. I spent mine writhing on the floor, screaming with absolute terror and relentless pain. Cleaning, organizing, letting go of clutter. That’s how I release emotional stress. I threw a picture frame across my art room, body wracking with the loud weeping. Glass shattered in a billion shards just like shattered peace. I crawled across the cold floor to sweep up the broken, and there was a shard, and all I could think was how the hurt, the pain, the shattered peace could end with that perfect razor sharp shard of broken glass.
Peace week. I spent mine contemplating suicide. It was, according to my doctor, a record long appointment. And for days, I couldn’t stop the tears gushing. Doctor said I’d need recurring injections–the price, $2000 per shot. Two. Thousand. Dollars. For. Every. Shot. On top of all else, that seemed a good enough reason to end my life. After all, Rudy already pays much of his income for my health. Paying this price seems unfair to he and Lily. So, Doctor sent me to my seventh doctor for this idiopathic-seeming condition.
It scares me thinking back to the peace week day I cradled that glass shard in my palm, considering it a life-ending tool. Because I really don’t want to die. There’s so much more love inside me to be given that I’m overwhelmed. I don’t want to die, but I was and am afraid to live. Living even seems selfish when it’s costing Rudy and Lily so much. And you just can’t put a band-aid on heartache. Peace week, I was nearly immobile. And, it was costly to my family. They went without eating because I couldn’t think of how to cook, much less actually carry out the task. Breathing hurt. And all I’d wanted was peace. I’d dreamed half the year of winter’s stillness to color with my little girl and read her Christmas stories, of baking bread, of sharing with the world’s homeless and forgotten. And, I couldn’t even move except to fake it through. That day, on the floor, tears streaming like rivers, God spoke the words from Romans 5:8 into my soul:
“I loved you at your darkest.”
Peace week. It’s gone for this advent. And, we’re here with joy week, to enjoy, en-joy, in-joy. How fascinating is it that enjoy comes from the Latin word, gaudere, meaning “rejoice?” Re-joy. And, then, the Old French word, enjoier, coming from the Latin gaudere, means to “give joy to.”
Enjoy. In-joy. I’m choosing each moment this week to be in joy.
Joy is being swept away by wonder and ushered into His presence.
This week, advent’s joy week, I have to re-joy, to pick up shattered peace pieces, and give them to the One who gives joy, is joy. When I re-joy, rejoice, praise, and pause in wonder, I am in joy. And, giving joy, being a gift, giving presence not presents, is joy-full. 


That record long doctor appointment, it was a gift. Forced hours of quiet, stillness, and Jesus Emmanuel, ushered in this joy week. Re-joying, for me, looks like limiting and eliminating social media, taking long walks through the snow covered woods, cooking healthy meals for my little family, simplifying everything, building snow-girls with Lily, coloring and reading stories, slowing way down, letting expectations go, taking long baths, making homemade hot chocolate, praising, reflecting during advent readings, sipping immune support tea, and being utterly, unashamedly swept away in wonder. 


Because in the wonder–that’s where Jesus is found, joy is found, and peace is found. Because He is peace, the Prince of Peace. And I can have peace because I don’t have to strive to measure up, meet expectations–He is the Ruler, the Peace Ruler.


Joy week. Joy week is joy filled, joy-full. And I want to share joy, joy of breath, joy of life, joy of Jesus. In the storm, I missed the Autumn giveaway. During that time, I focused a lot of awareness on fair trade (see previous blogs). To share joy with you and share life with fair trade artisans, I am going to hold a surprise fair trade themed giveaway, a little package of joy. To enter, comment below with ways you’re spending joy week and share this blog. I wish you a slow cup of tea by the Christmas tree, a joy-full week lost in wonder, and a very Merry Christmas. ❤️












































That afternoon I learned about gratitude in a most undeserving, yet merciful, way. When we become dissatisfied or ungrateful for what we have, maybe, just maybe, we can’t even see the beauty that is ours, the beauty that we have. God gave my ungrateful heart a beautiful gift with the desired leaves, but also with the lesson to see and appreciate what is right there in front of me. When I’m looking elsewhere for more, I’m unable to see, utterly blinded to, all I have, which is so often just exactly what I need.
That dried up, ugly leaf Lily chose? It was seen by her, loved by her, and treasured by her. She saw the beauty and value in the overlooked. All the leaves to her are “so precious.” And aren’t they really? Aren’t we all?



































Since we all know that a watched pot never boils, prepare your tea cups and/or teapot while you’re waiting.
Usually, you can start with your favorite Earl Grey blend and add 1/2 teaspoon of dried lavender buds. Since this blend already includes lavender, I’m omitting that step. You want to have a strong tea base, so you’ll double the strength you’d normally make your tea. Put 2 teaspoons tea (or 2 tea bags) per cup. For my two teacup pot, I’m putting in 4 teaspoons. Do you like my Ukrainian teaspoon? I love it! It’s a treasure. 
If your water isn’t boiling yet, go ahead and put your choice of sweetener to taste in each cup. I’d usually use raw honey, but since we’re out, I’m using organic sugar. 

While the tea is steeping, steam milk. You can use whole milk or any nut milk. Heat about 1 cup of milk until just before it boils. You should notice a foam layer on top. Stir the milk to keep from scorching. 







There are unique circumstances where mothers must work outside the home. I get that–if it’s an absolute necessity and not just a selfish ambition. If insufficient income is the issue, are there budget cuts that could be made? I’m not here to guilt-trip anyone, but I am also not going to be shamed because I choose to stay home and nurture and train my child. Unfortunately, “when mothers are regularly absent, their children suffer profoundly” (Roys, 2017). Roys goes on to say “experts in child development now recognize that a young child’s need for her mother is as strong as the need for food, so separating from her for extended periods of time can be traumatic.” That research was eye-opening for me. I realize I have a tremendous responsibility to my daughter. While I miss nursing, and always planned to be a “career girl,” being a stay at home mother has helped me embrace my feminine role in ways I never imagined. I love it! 

