(This post is a re-post, but the invitation to Quiet Lights continues this Advent – don’t miss out. Simply subscribe via the link below!)
Dinner time at our house is often, well, make that always, insane.
But every once in awhile, when I’ve had it up-to-here with the volume and intensity, I set a few small candles in the center of the table and turn off the overhead lights. The darkness brings a momentary quiet, which is no small feat with four young children gathered around.
We all hear the striking of the match and watch as light bursts into being. Lighting candles at dinner instills, for a few moments at least, a sense of awe and wonder in the middle of what’s otherwise a hectic, frantic, free-for-all.
Walking through a store a few weeks ago, I found myself surrounded by the stuff of Christmas. As I thought of the season ahead, I realized my deepest desire is to be present to this precious season – to slow down and be re-awakened to awe and wonder.
Maybe this is your desire too?
This Advent season I’d like to offer you a series of Quiet Lights in your inbox. Think of these emails as me lighting a candle for you.
Each email will contain a simple poem or quote as well as a few links to good reads from around the web aimed at deepening your capacity for presence, stillness and wonder during advent.
This isn’t one more thing to do, no one needs that this time of year, it’s simply an opportunity to be – to be present, to be aware, to be awakened.
These free emails will begin December 1st and continue through the Christmas season. Interested? Click on the link below to enter your email address and subscribe or visit the Field of Wild Flowers facebook page and send me a private message and I’ll add you myself.
I’d be grateful if you’d share this post (via facebook or email) with both your friends at large and two or three close friends who you believe would be blessed by receiving Quiet Lights in their inbox. The more, the merrier!
Click here to subscribe to Quiet Lights.
Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day
is the rest we take between two deep breaths,
or the turning inwards in prayer
for five short minutes.
—Etty Hillesum
