Grateful and Intentional: Home for the Holidays
By: Kristen Neighbarger Published on: 27/12/2023It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that this is my last blog post of 2023. Russ and I have spent all of December talking about how quickly this year flew by–I feel like we said that at the beginning of each new month, a collective: where did this month go? We’re gearing up for 2024, and it’s going to be a BIG year around here. I’m working on my manuscript and hope to have it to my publisher in the next month. Then, I have to brace myself for the joy commonly referred to as editing and revising before the excitement of launching my book baby into the world. It’s going to be a wild ride for sure. I’ve never had a “word of the year” before this year, and in true Kristen fashion, I couldn’t land on just one word, so I had two: balance and focus. Those were good for me. When I found myself feeling a little off-kilter or overcommitting, those words would find their way back into my brain, and I would feel myself calming and settling.
Intentional Choices: Home for the Holidays
By: Kristen Neighbarger Published on: 13/12/2023When I was a kid, I knew what to expect every Christmas. We had very specific traditions that followed me into adulthood: On Christmas Eve, we went to my grandparents’ house on my mom’s side with my mom’s entire family. We had pizza, read the Christmas story, Santa came with gifts, and my mom passed out pans of cinnamon rolls to each family. On Christmas Day, we woke up, opened presents, and ate cinnamon rolls before going to my grandparents’ house on my dad’s side for lunch and presents. On Christmas evening, we went to my aunt’s house to celebrate with her family (the same family we had just spent Christmas Eve with!) There was little to no deviation in these Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions throughout my adolescence and into my early adulthood. There was comfort in these traditions–comfort in the fact that my family seemed to genuinely get along, liked spending time together, and was committed to continuing these long-established rituals.
Intentional Traditions: Home for the Holidays
By: Kristen Neighbarger Published on: 13/12/2023When I was a kid, I knew what to expect every Christmas. We had very specific traditions that followed me into adulthood: On Christmas Eve, we went to my grandparents’ house on my mom’s side with my mom’s entire family. We had pizza, read the Christmas story, Santa came with gifts, and my mom passed out pans of cinnamon rolls to each family. On Christmas Day, we woke up, opened presents, and ate cinnamon rolls before going to my grandparents’ house on my dad’s side for lunch and presents. On Christmas evening, we went to my aunt’s house to celebrate with her family (the same family we had just spent Christmas Eve with!) There was little to no deviation in these Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions throughout my adolescence and into my early adulthood. There was comfort in these traditions–comfort in the fact that my family seemed to genuinely get along, liked spending time together, and was committed to continuing these long-established rituals.
Intentional Connections: Home for the Holidays
By: Kristen Neighbarger Published on: 06/12/2023When I was growing up, the Christmas traditions ran rampant. The Christmas season wasn’t complete without the candlelight service, the Christmas Cantata, the obligatory Christmas Carols, and the little boxes of candy each of us would receive after said Christmas Cantata and singing of those obligatory Christmas Carols. Because it was standard practice in my house to attend church every time the doors were opened, we were all part of all of the festivities–my brother and I were forced to be in the kids’ Christmas program, my mom sang in the choir, and my dad ran sound because he sang in the choir one time and says they asked him to run sound after that…allegedly. I don’t remember having much choice in any of these commitments, and I would venture so far as to say my parents probably didn’t feel like they had much of a choice either. That was the world we lived in then–a world of unspoken rules and heavy expectations.
