Thanksgiving has tipped over into Advent, but nonetheless, I'm thankful for the following:

Wild rice salad, mashed potatoes with blue cheese and port caramelized onions, homemade rolls, pumpkin pecan pie (a double-decker delicacy)… and leftovers.

C’s grandparents who visited over the weekend. She warmed to “Pa” considerably, but was never quite sure about him. Might have been the white beard. (Does not bode well for Santa Claus.) However, it’s worth noting the following: We’ve been saying prayers at bedtime for some months now. After saying them “on her behalf” for several months, I have started simply prompting “God bless…” and she fills in the blanks. The night her grandparents left she asked blessings for her lovey first, her blanket second, and Pa third. He definitely made a lasting impression. Despite her reticence with him now, I have visions of them playing the piano together in not-too-many years.

The Incredibles, and the chance to go see it. Wow. Those Pixar people are on the biggest roll ever. I wonder if they feel good riding the wave, or do they live in dread of the inevitable dud? Does resounding success fuel creativity, or sooner or later do the creative muscle seize up with panic at not being able to sustain the streak? Having never had a streak like that, I wouldn’t know.

Last night’s Advent Festival at the church. There is nothing in the world like being pastor of a church that absolutely adores my child. Of course the people love all the children in the church, but the pastor’s kid is also their kid in a very particular way. I didn’t have to watch her every second because I knew she was among family. One woman made her a jingle-bell rattle using pipe cleaners and beads, another snuck her a cookie, and the 9-year-old girls demanded that she sit at their table.

The fact that I didn’t wreck my weekend trying to write a sermon for Saturday and Sunday, instead putting together something simpler and less time-consuming—and that it was well received.

Study leave this week at the cathedral downtown. It’s a storytelling workshop. What fun! Study leave/conferences are the big spiritual inhale for the pastor, and I’ve been long overdue.

The wedding of a friend and ‘spiritual mother’ of mine. I wasn’t able to attend, unfortunately, but I heard she was practically levitating. She has been married before—has a daughter my age—and had been wanting to meet someone new for a long time now. She leads labyrinth retreats, and took her then-friend, now-husband, to walk the labyrinth for the first time. Somehow as she was walking toward the center, she ended up back at the entrance. This normally doesn’t happen; the whole point of a labyrinth as a prayer tool is that one doesn’t get ‘lost.’ Nonetheless, there she was, at the entrance, unexpectedly, when she heard a voice, a clear voice, a voice from within her and yet also not from her, that said, “You get to begin again.”

And now they’re married. Mazel tov and blessings.

The seasons of Advent and Christmas. I admit it, I love the whole damn season. Of course as a Christian the holiday actually means something more than getting stuff. I don’t know where other people find meaning in the season. But I even like the kitschy commercial stuff, and the songs! Oh, the songs!