Fridays

We all wake up to the buzz of the alarm and my dreamy mind thinks, this is a typical weekday.  School, work, lunches to be packed...ugh! But quickly I recall that today is the Friday after Thanksgiving.  Today is Black Friday which used to mean waking up way before dawn and hitting the road to find deals...(that was many moons ago, before hockey schedules started to trump anything and everything on this long weekend...) To some this Friday off is set aside for putting up lights and decking the halls...We all have our traditions.  Some boycott all of the buying.  But most of us are thinking Christmas.  We may go all out like Clark Griswold and light up the town, or we may try to hide under a bush and ignore the whole thing.

For the most part, I live and breath nostalgia.  Every single Christmas I fire up Roger Whitaker's original Christmas album.  My mama played it every year as long as I can remember and let me tell you, even my husband knows every word to every song.  Ridiculous, I know right!? But this explains a bit of my problem...(On a side note, you really do need to google "TINY ANGELS" you have not lived if you have not heard this song...) So these traditions are important to me, and when my plan doesn't go as such, I have a hard time.  But...Oh But...sometimes the best new traditions birth from dampers in my plans.  My boys started playing hockey about 9 years ago.  I knew it would be busy but I had no idea how much time it really entailed.  Joe took a head coaching position and helped out with my other son's team as well.  September through January became my least favorite season.  As much as I loved watching my boys play, and as grateful to God as I was that my husband could coach them, I had a bitter heart.  Not only did this sport drain our time, it drained our bank account.  I was dragging my baby girl who was just a toddler,  from rink to icy cold rink.  I packed snacks and toys and my bitterness all up in the diaper bag and drove to the ice arena, wherever it was that day.  I sat on cold metal bleachers and cheered on my boys, yelled at refs, and made new friendships.  Never in a million years did I think that a cold hockey rink would be the breeding ground for warm, heartfelt relationships that yearned for something more than the commonality of being just a hockey mom together. 

And years passed before this bond came to fruition.  We would say hi, sit next to each other, or sometimes not so close (I have a very loud voice, I'll just chalk it up to that...lol)  But somehow, some of us have come together and started to meet up... This January will mark 4 years of us getting together.  There are more of us than just hockey mamas.  Maybe we have bonded as I stood behind the chair or crossed paths in this small community of ours, but God has orchestrated something beautiful.  Once a week we see each other, we open up our homes and our souls to one another.  Some of us work outside of the home part or full time.  Some of us are full time homemakers...But all of us have one common thread, we yearn for something more.  We seek to know our Maker and look to Him for guidance and instruction in our lives. 

As this season of Advent begins may we long for nothing more than waiting.  Instead of racing and running, let's slow down and breathe in deep our Savior's grace.  He waits for us to turn to Him, let's wait for Him to speak...Year after year we have our traditions, whatever those may be, but this year may we all anticipate the coming King who makes all things new.  May we yearn for new meaning to the nostalgia, a new season of knowing a God who became flesh, humbly in a manger, so that He could call us His own.   May we continue to allow our icy hearts to be formed into pliable grace as we are melded into what He has called us to be, daughters, heirs to His throne. 

Fridays will never be the same for me, I hope they are different for you too, in a good way!