Day 7--- Belated

I'm finishing up my week of pics a little late. I took a break to focus on the holiday.

Here's a typical lazy day outfit for me. I rarely wear short coverings like this one. I guess I just don't feel "covered" enough. Also, I couldn't wear them for months. My hair was so short when I first started covering that this style looked strange. No hair to cover up the ties in the back. There's finally enough there now, though. I think this will especially be a useful style for summer. This past summer was miserable trying to find a good covering for the heat.

I had my first haircut in 7 months yesterday. You can figure out just how short my hair really was! I had been putting off cutting it, because I dreaded trying to explain the situation to whoever I happened to get at the salon. It's very important that I maintain my tiny ponytail. I've worked hard to get that little thing. Before it was there, it was just one giant battle with too short wisps hanging down from my scarves. I can still hear myself grumbling over and cursing those things. I just knew I'd end up launching into a huge explanation to the beautician of how I didn't need a style, because I cover it up anyway. She would nod her head and wrinkle up her forehead in a completely confused look. She would say she understood, and I would hold my breath. Then, I could just see her chopping off my length anyway to try and make it even up to some kind of "cute" hairdo. I think I actually had a nightmare along those lines once. So, I've been hiding from the hairdresser. But, my ends were getting horrible, and I was forced to find a solution... My husband cut my hair for me! As I stood in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around my shoulders and a half smile on my lips, I watched him juggle the scissors and comb, a look of deep concentration on his face. He carefully trimmed just the tiniest bit off my ends. No chopping. No nightmare. All I could think as I stood there was, "This man really LOVES me." Whatta guy. My hero.

I can't believe Christmas came and went. I have the bittersweet feeling I do at the end of all fasts. On the one hand, I feel like I missed out. I could have prayed more. I could have forgiven more. I could have repented more. I wasted a lot of opportunities. On the other hand, I can eat bacon now, and I'm pretty happy about that. :)

I remember in my Protestant days, I tried desperately to construct a meaningful web of Christmas traditions. I wanted it to be more than the lights and the sounds and the presents. I wanted Scripture and ritual and depth. I experimented with ideas, but I never found the right fit. I especially longed to be able to go to church on Christmas Day. I never had that experience except for when the holiday happened to fall on Sunday. No one wanted church to conflict with their Christmas morning gift opening rituals, so it wasn't even a possibility in other years.

As I stood in church this Christmas Eve, taking my turn as a reader for the Royal Hours, my heart swelled. The mass amount of Scripture. The hymns filled with wonder and gratitude. This is what I was looking for. No need to devise my own traditions. The Church fathers were so wise in their careful planning that leads us from fast to feast to fast to feast throughout the liturgical year. I don't have to re-invent the wheel. It's already lined out for me and shared by generations.

There were more prayers when we returned that evening for Vigil. Then the climax came Christmas morning at Liturgy. While the city was quiet and the streets deserted, we climbed in the car and traveled to church to spend our Christmas morning proclaiming the birth of Christ. There is no denying the Christ in an Orthodox Christmas. He's not hiding in a manger scene. The whole Earth is filled with his glory. I'm so grateful. For the God I worship and the faith that gives me the tools to run from myself and push closer to God. Who needs any other present than that?

Christ Is Born! Glorify Him!