Tag Archives: spiritual journeys

A 6 Week Look at Advent: FREE!

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Greetings! Welcome back! Well… I hinted at it on my socials, but likely didn’t promote it as well as I should… but we have an exciting few weeks coming! It’s time for another collection of blogs centered around a single topic!! Yes, we are going to spend the next few weeks with a “theme”. We’re going to dive in together to another Advent Season with a slightly angled series of posts. Honestly, a purely selfish move on my part: one because I’m finding posts hard these days and need direction, and two, because we’re going to run the series in our small group and thought, “Hey, I’m doing the prep work anyway, why not follow the theme?”

So here we go! Now, you will know that mittonmusings.com has done several Advent posts in the past (go ahead, search ’em up if you wish!) and I promise not to deviate from the style you know and love from me, but hold on to your hats as we dive in to a little study together. As I said, I take no credit. Since you know I am {ahem} frugal, I needed to find the cheapest study to plan from. And free is the cheapest, so it’s the one I searched for and found. However, I don’t want to be accused of not giving credit, so I’m going to link the full online book HERE so that I can give the credit where credit is do. Of course, it will be my own musings about what I learn, so take what you will from it all! Happy studying!

Now. Normally, I would not be thinking about Christmas yet. Good grief, we’ve just had a time change, leaves are still on the ground, and we’ve barely hit November… but I’m taking the bull by the horns and jumping in early. So, let’s prepare for the Christmas season together, shall we?!

As many of you know, creatures are my thing. They have been for years and years. I am sure my mother went out of her mind every time I brought home another “pet”. The newly hatched ducklings I brought home from school for the weekend (without her permission), the injured birds and frog collections every summer. The caterpillars I tried to raise into moths. The ant farm in my top dresser drawer (which was just a pickle jar where I threw random ants in in hopes they would survive). Then came the various aquariums. Cats were also on the list. Then as my own family grew, we started with the attempts at breeding show cats (it didn’t work). Then the youngest became quite successful at her side hustle breeding domestic rats. (Yes, they are a thing, yes people keep rats as pets, yes, we did well at it). And now, here we are at Itsnottafarm with a flock of chickens and the hopes of pet goats.

Along the way, I’ve learned a little about genetics. Genealogies are important when you are breeding livestock… or show quality pets. Colour links, pedigrees, family trees, behaviour, “stock”. Now that we’re out here among the farmers, I see auctions and cow shows and goat shows and qualities of eggs and meat and all that agricultural stuff. Believe me, it’s a whole other world with its own learning curve!

This little guy looks just like his dad!

And then, of course, I am at the age where my own brood is growing. Our grand baby is going to be one year old soon! Time flies! That, too, is a whole other world — when your kids have kids. Or start talking at you late at night about their worlds. About real world issues and family dynamics and friends and parties and “adulting”. In some sense, I’m not ready for it. Yet, time has a way of thrusting such things upon you, and you get pushed into it ready or not.

So. What on earth did that little rant have to do with our Advent Study? Well. Lesson one begins with the genealogy of Christ in Matthew 1. A long list of names showing baby Jesus’ “pedigree” if you will. His earthly genetic make up. Proof of His existence. Our first lesson draws us to look to the past before we can look at the future. Like a good working border collie, a puppy’s history will give us a glimpse into what his future will look like. A fast runner? A smart, obedient dog from good bloodlines? A fancy rat with black eyes and a curly coat? Those genetics are the ones you want to carry on.

But here’s the kicker. Matthew includes some interesting details in baby Jesus’ genetic analysis. Our book breaks it up into: Title, descendants and structure. For time sake, we’ll simply make a few conclusions. The title of Jesus’ name, His claim as Messiah, the Chosen one, indicates that He has fulfilled the Promise of the ancient covenants. He was not just a lowly baby: He was the promised King. Then, unlike our prized pedigrees in agriculture, Jesus’ line of descendants includes a mixed bag of people. Some “black sheep”, shall we say? Respected Jewish prophets, yes, but shady characters, Gentiles and Heaven forbid, women! And what does that show us? He came at Christmas for all of us! Even if you think you don’t make the cut… you are worthy!! And His family tree is evidence of that. Finally, the structure adds an interesting twist. Did you notice it was split into 14, 14, 14 generations? No, me neither. Thanks to studying, this unique inclusion of certain name drops, helps us see how Jesus came for a purpose, and what His work was here on earth. He came to save us. The ultimate task.

So there you have it. I know we only scratched the surface, but perhaps it will spark you to further study, or simply a “muse” for the week. A glimpse into the future by looking a little bit at the past. Start that conversation about it with someone. Is it too early to talk about Christmas? The big box stores don’t think so, so why should we? Check back in with us here again, my friend (or sign up and get it in your inbox!) for next week’s look at Advent – with a twist! 🙂

Antiques and Adventures: A Moment in Time

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Whew! Another week has flown by! Yet time is like that, isn’t it? Especially when you get older and you’re moving “downhill”, shall we say. My current update is the same as last weeks: pallets are still on the driveway, coop still needs cleaning, and we have one out of two porch rocking chairs stained. The status of these projects hasn’t changed much in seven days. We did get a few things in the barn and tidied up before the snow flies, but the leaves are still falling. It’s actually quite sunny out today and I’m not really thinking about snow at all yet. It will be here soon enough, though.

Let’s get back to fall, though, shall we? I had a beautiful fall drive the other day through the countryside to pick up our little grand baby. He’s getting so big now… will be a year in a couple months. There’s time flying again. Really flying when you think of all the milestones a little one goes through in a year. From helpless newborn to walking, talking toddler, to helpless teenager again. Did I say that out loud? Ooops. Nevermind. I suppose we can say that time certainly doesn’t stop for anyone on this journey through our earth exsistance.

Anyway… back to my fall drive. The colours were fabulous. Golden hues mixed with brown undertones, a clear, blue sky and a winding road through little rural towns decorated with orange pumpkins and the odd farm stand of weathered wood and hand drawn signs. Post card perfect. Even for the end of the season. Once car seats were switched and snacks were handed out, I headed off home again. Grand baby and I stopped at an antique shop on the way, just to break up the journey. I was a little nervous taking a baby through a narrow aisled shoppe filled with old glass jars and pottery, especially one in an old dairy barn with a cracked (and slanted) floor. He’s a little angel though, and happily ate his cheese bagel in the stroller as I dodged in and out of the booths checking price tags.

Antiques are a funny thing. I don’t claim to be an “antique-r” but I love to look. Why do we pay so much for something so old? I’m a sucker for mason jars, and have a large collection. Still, I stop and look at the price of every jar filled with marbles. I have no idea why. I also wander through such places and think, “if I put that old window frame up on my wall, it is certainly gonnna look weird and not at all like that one in the magazine”. I even have the old century farmhouse now where such things are expected… but my decorating skills are not anywhere near the magazine people. And so I wander through antique barns checking price tags like I know what I am doing.

At the very last booth, however, I did discover two little ceramic birds. I have been craving these for some time now. They aren’t even antiques, likely. I’ve seen similar in those potpourri gift shoppe places. The price tag always deters me. These birdies, however, had a price tag on the bottom of $5.00! So, I hummed and hawed for a second, do I need them? They are a good price, so I wandered off with them to the counter.

My new little “vintage” birdies

I chit chatted with the guy about the weather, these little birds, and how I had been looking for a pair, and how cute grand baby was with cheese bagel stuffed face. He tells me they were $5.56 total. I originally thought they were $5 EACH. So, I am very sorry, nice antique guy, but I didn’t say a single thing, nor question your final price, except that we still had a bit left over for coffee … and I bubbled inside that I now had a great deal (It was mixed with a little guilt I didn’t question him, I’ll admit it! But that’s on the store owner right? The price tags were clearly labelled…)

I suppose at this point, I should muse about being honest. Perhaps speaking truth. Perhaps how our glorious Creator gives us the fall season to rejoice in. Okay, I’ve mentioned all of those things. Yet my thinking originally lead me to “time” for this post. An antique store certainly makes you question time. You literally look at pieces of history from a time past: glass mason jars for canning or marble collections. Movie posters and antique record albums. Rusty farm tools. Real wood furniture, pottery crocks, milk crates and bottles. Baskets, fur coats and license plates. Pieces in time.

My little birds are perhaps “vintage” but likely not real antique. I don’t think they serve any purpose besides sitting on a shelf to make me smile. Still, they will remind me of when a bagel eating grand baby was with me, and how he’s growing so fast. How warm the sun was on that day, and how I need to get going on those porch chairs. How God gives us limited time. Yet, for every waking minute and second of that time, He watches over us, as He does the tiny sparrow. And only He knows when our time is up. When His plan for us is complete and time will move forward with others stepping up to the plate.

Do you love an antique shop, my friend? Or do you love a modern coffee shop and bagel? Either way, it’s an outing with a friend. Or a grand baby. Or a spouse. Or a parent. This week, I’m reminded that time is special. Preserve and cherish it. For not unlike the price tags of antiques, the cost is usually high, but if you get a deal, don’t say too much: Just enjoy it.

Unpacking the Laundry: Silly Sock Insights from Everyday Life

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Welcome back to another musing about seemingly ordinary things that lead to the extra ordinary thought of the week. The weather has certainly been getting cooler. I can’t believe that soon the snow will fly and I’ll be writing about getting stuck in snow drifts again. We closed up the pool for another season… I say “we”, but the hubby did most of the work. We just pulled and secured the tarp. It took less time this year than last, so we must be improving our technique. My pallets are still sitting on the driveway. I did finish staining the porch pew and a chair (one to go!) this week, though. I say, do you have to rake leaves if you live in the country and nobody really cares about your lawn? Sigh. So many mundane things to do.

One of those is the never ending laundry pile. Why? Why do we have so much laundry? There are four adult people living in this house. The dog rarely makes any extra laundry. Why are there so many towels? Who is using pool towels when the pool hasn’t been used for weeks? Nevertheless, the goal this weekend was to get through the piles (and piles) of laundry. I didn’t count how many loads we did, but the machines were running non-stop. We finally fluffed, folded and put away the laundry! Gold star!

Who is still using the beach towels?!

How come we don’t give out gold stars on chore charts for adult households? Perhaps we should implement that as acceptable once again. Bonus points for matching the sock bag. I have a “sock bag” where all the lost socks get dumped. This weekend I purged the sock bag once again in an attempt to get those bonus laundry points. Am I alone in this? Why do we keep mis-matched socks until they die? Most are perfectly good socks. Some in that bag are not good at all, and they are likely in that bag because I have tossed the holey partner long ago. I am sure there is a sock in that bag from when my youngest was about five years old… it certainly is cute but won’t fit anyone. For some unknown reason, I put it back in the bag.

Now, I am all for reuse and recycle, and believe you me, I have searched lots of ideas for single socks… but who wants a sock puppet to take to school when you are eighteen and the sock is a nylon dress sock with pink flamingos flocking it? The eldest of our kids has a sock obsession. She has a sock with every character, food group and funky colour. She no longer lives at home and the flamingo socks do not belong to her. I rest my case.

Still, I promised supernatural from the mundane… which leads to this week’s musing. As I sat on the living room floor surrounded by my mismatched sock collection, I thought about God up in heaven sorting out all His people. Have you ever thought about God’s collection of people? Some are “holier” than others. Some colourful. Some fuzzy, some knee high long, some short ankle sock with sports logos. Some are practical and keep you warm. Others are nylon with pink flamingos that are all fad. Like socks, we often get separated in the wash. We loose touch with those who are like us. We start out as a great pair, or a complete package of ten pair, fresh and new from Christmas morning, ready to last all year.

The Lost Sock Bag

Then. We get grass stained, dripped on, sweaty and overworked. Stretched out to the point where our elastics fail and we slide down inside the winter boots of life – defeated. Or tossed aside in the lost sock bag. For some of us, that’s the end. We’ve done our job to its fullest and God says, it’s okay, it’s your time to go now, let a fresh pair take over that stinky job. Or like that five year old’s pink sock, you get put back in the bag because although your job may be done, you are celebrated for the memories and make a mom smile at what was once. It’s a funny feeling when you find a bunch of matches in that pile, though. The adrenaline rush of the housewife who finds a full cotton pair of sports sock with not only similar stripes but the same stripes and logo on heel and toe! Those socks get put in the keep pile with big plans for a full day of toe tapping work ahead!

I know, it’s a silly muse. Socks. Faith journeys. Everyday life. Yet, it’s real. It’s a thing we can all relate to, and I hope that you’ll take a second look at who you’ve been perfectly matched with, and know that that person was hand picked out of the pile for you. And if you are still waiting in the bag, your time will come. Or if your time has come, know that you will be remembered for your crazy flamingo memories and your cozy winter morning snuggles. Happy laundry day, everyone.