Anticipation…

I walked into a store this weekend and saw the Christmas aisle, right next to the Thanksgiving table decoration aisle, and bordered by the over-large Halloween decorations aisle flanked by mounds and mounds of bags of snack sized candies.  First weekend in October and there it was, a huge aisle with Christmas wrapped boxes, pre-lit trees, inflatable Santa’s and skating penguins.  And chocolates, lots and lots of boxes of assorted chocolates.  And it made me think…I better start my Christmas shopping or everything will be gone!

No, not really, but it did make me wonder how the years keep getting shorter because it seems like about six weeks ago I was putting away Christmas decorations.  

I’m waiting for the store to open that is an All-Holiday-All-Year-Round shop.  They won’t have to move things from front to back and they won’t have to cart out the last holiday stuff to make way for the new holiday stuff and it would be perfectly natural to find chocolate bunnies next to chocolate snowmen.  But if they did that, there would be no anticipation.  Shoppers wouldn’t have a reason to say “Are they nuts?  Christmas decorations in October” or “Oh, joy, 75 more shopping days until Christmas”.   It would sort of taint the feelings that come when we see the reminders that Christmas is, once again, sailing our way rather quickly.

And, oh, those feelings!  Starting with the lists we make for ourselves of things to do, we anticipate all the work involved in getting prepared for Christmas.  Some can’t stand it; others live for it.  The guy down the street starts on his Christmas lights this month every year.  They begin their merry glow on Thanksgiving and thrill us until well past the New Year.  Each year we anticipate what he’ll do to add to the display or make it different.   

The “Holiday Shopping Guides” will come in the mail, paper or electronic, and woo us with their must-have offerings.  Some of us flip through and daydream, some will buy, and some will just drop it into the recycling bin.  For those of us who actively participate in Christmas shopping on any level, we will budget and plan and make or purchase and wrap to delight our loved ones because we anticipate the look on their faces when they know whatever we have given them is given as a token of our love.

And the food!  Out come the tortes, and the elegant frosted brownies, and the assortment of sugar decorated cookies.  The standing rib roasts, wild smoked salmon, baked hams, and imported cheese trays.  Can’t forget the platters of dried fruits or bags of whole nuts.  Peppermint flavored hot chocolate with mini marshmallows that expand in hot water.  Many of us will buy things we would not normally buy because we anticipate how it will look, how it will smell, how it will taste, and how it will be savored by those who gather to feast with us. 

Some of us will anticipate that we are ahead of it all and will buy Christmas cards that we can’t find once we get home and send email greetings instead – or late cards.  Many of us will say no more cards, thank you, and send messages via Facebook or email or text messages.  But I do love getting those cards and letters; wish I could be better at sending them.

And somewhere miles from where most of us are, our troops, our loved ones, our sons and daughters, will get the boxes we send to them.   And neither of our Christmases will be the same.  And some of our Christmases will be forever changed.  But we will anticipate the Christmas we will have when they come home.  And maybe even consider leaving the tree up. 

So back down the aisle I went after gathering the items I needed, slowly, thoughtfully, tearfully.  Browsing, wishing, hoping, praying.   Time is passing…too slow for some, too fast for others. 

I’m so glad I have Jesus and know that He is our refuge because sometimes the anticipation is just too much.  

I’m counting still.  Come home.

Breakfast Brownies

We’ve started a thing, Hannah and I.  Brownies for breakfast.  Not just plain chocolate brownies but brownies with walnuts and peanut butter.  Yum.  It came about because she ate my last cherry turnover one night – my favorite breakfast treat.  Looking in the cupboard I came across a walnut brownie mix that I have no idea how it got into my cupboard and told her to make them after school the next day.  And she did.  I came home after working late to the oh-so-decadent fragrance of warm, gooey, chocolatey brownies still sitting on top of the stove.  More yum. 

I got busy and forgot about them (I think the smell had me mesmerized into thinking I’d actually consumed one) but when I went to make the coffee I noticed them, still perfectly uncut in the brownie pan.  I quickly cut them and placed them under the glass covered cake pedestal that had housed a bundt cake a few weeks ago.  Hannah trailed out of her room (the cave), saw them and had one.  

“Breakfast,” she said. 

And that started it.  We’ve since made walnut brownies each week and cut them into cute little squares and placed them prettily on display, the perfect morning sweet.

My kids have always loved brownies.  One of my favorite memories of brownie baking is of Sam at around four.  He would sit up on the counter as we made brownies.  He’d pour in the mix, crack and add the egg, pour in the measured oil and water, and stir.  Oh, it was messy and it wasn’t perfect but it was absolutely, perfectly wonderful.  One day as we chatted while we went through our process he got really quiet and looked at me seriously.

“Mommy?”  (How I miss those days of being Mommy!  I cried for a week when I became Mom.)

“Yes, Sam?”  A speck of chocolate flour was on his nose and the goopy brownie mix had traveled from his hands to up his arms with a little tale-tell bit around his mouth where he’d licked the stirring spoon.

“Will my wife know how to make brownies?”

Be still my heart!  Where is this coming from?  Ah, yes.  Often when we prayed together at night I would ask God to bless the girls that would someday be the wives of our boys.  I would pray for them to have good homes, with parents who loved them, and to know safety.  I would pray for them to know Jesus…for them to come to know Him.  I would pray for God to prepare these little girls to be the women He had planned for them to be so that they could be the best wives for these little boys. And then I’d pray for the boys to be good men.  And Sam had listened.

“I don’t know, my Sammie Lamb, but I hope so. Not all girls are raised to know how to cook, but if she wants, we can teach her. ”

His face frowned in concentration as he contemplated something so foreign to what he himself knew.   I was blessed to be able to be at home part of the day, to be able to cook and bake and savor the fleeting, precious moments while my babies were young.  Every day brought something new and warm and amazing to discover about my children, and every moment brought them closer to growing up.

He gave the mix a vigorous stir and handed it to me to pour into the pan and hung his head sadly, “Okay… but she needs to be able to make brownies.”

I tried to hide the giggle that bubbled at his seriousness.  “Well, son, if she can’t, you can.  You know how to make brownies.”

His gaze shot to mine and a slow grin spread along with a decisive nod.  “Yes, I can.  I can make the brownies.”  And with that he was off the counter, racing to find Aaron and get back to their Star Wars Battle Station Galactica play set.  I knew that as soon as they heard the timer buzz they’d both be there, ready for milk and warm brownies.

Brownies aren’t just for breakfast; they’re an offering, a delicious prayer that my grown up babies will find that safe, sure, and giving love with a special someone  God has prepared for them.

Someone who will take the time to go into the kitchen of life with them, open a box of brownie mix, and together add the ingredients that are as necessary for brownies as for marriage.  Faith in God like eggs to hold it all together; purpose like water that converts sucrose to glucose and maltose to glucose, to make committed decisions and thoughtful choices that lead them toward their shared goals; and ardor like oil to moisten their lives with laughter, adventures, and memories.  Maybe they’ll throw in some nuts for fun, or some peanut butter for whimsy.  And as the years go by, they will stir and stir, pour and bake, and create something more wonderful than they could ever imagine, just because all the right things were added.  

Because without those key ingredients, a brownie is just not a brownie.

It’s only Monday and the walnut-peanut butter-brownie pile has dwindled noticeably.  I admit nothing.  Hmmm.  Better get the brownie mixing bowl out again.  Can’t start the day without a good breakfast brownie!