Month: November 2022

victory o’er the grave

/ Rachel Fenton / 2 Comments

The Saturday after Thanksgiving, we visited the graves of our family members and left flowers on the two new ones.

It was a crisp autumn day, and the trees in the cemetery were beautiful. Their leaves made me think of the glory of the cherubim: bright and burning and spread across the heavens.

My uncle David’s headstone still hasn’t arrived, but we found the plot where he rests and placed a lily there.

We stood together as a family, and cleaned off the headstone, and we read part of the Akathist to Christ for a Loved One Who Has Fallen Asleep. It’s one of my favorites, and I’ve prayed it many times this year. Jake and I also sang Memory Eternal, and the words of the Akathist seemed to rest with me as we sang.

But love is strong, delivering from eternal darkness and saving all, for whom with boldness it raises a song to Thee: Alleluia!

Death is ugly. Our society hides it out of sight and out of mind. It isn’t a topic of polite conversation. We’re inundated with marketing and advertisements that promise eternal youth, while the elderly and the ill are hidden in sterile buildings for others to take care of. The practice of visiting the graves of family members seems to have fallen out of style. Often we pretend death doesn’t exist, until we can’t any longer.

The Orthodox understanding both of death and our relationship to the departed is a great comfort to me. Death exists, and we prepare and pray for a holy end to our lives — but we do not fear death, knowing Christ has conquered the grave. We also pray for those who have departed this life: only God knows the state of their soul and their salvation, and so we pray for His mercy.

We also ask the saints to pray for us and our loved ones. Fr. John Breck writes in greater detail in this article, if you are interested in exploring the Biblical and traditional foundations of the communion of saints.

Prayer transcends both time and space. As the work of the Holy Spirit within us, prayer unites us in a transcendent, eternal communion with the Holy Trinity and with all the faithful who have preceded us through death and into life beyond. We can and we must pray for them, for their salvation and for our own. We pray for them and request their intercession for the same reason the Church has always offered that prayer: because even now we are united with them in the eternal bond we know as “the communion of saints.”

Fr. John Breck

These reminders of hope in the face of death are especially poignant as we continue in the Nativity fast in the East (and enter into the Advent season in the West). This entire liturgical season of the Church is rooted in hope.

The Nativity hymns of the East are full of the imagery of a barren wasteland springing into life. The words below are selected from the Advent Paraklesis:

The desert flowered like a lily at Thy coming, O Lord…

…For through Thy birth Thou dost shape all things afresh, making them new once more and leading them back again to their first beauty.

Make ready, O Bethlehem, for Eden hath been opened for all. Prepare, O Ephratha, for the Tree of Life hath blossomed forth in the cave from the Virgin.

The Advent hymns from the West also highlight the theme of hope: of a barren wasteland now filled with new life, and of light dispelling darkness. The ancient hymn O Come O Come Emmanuel has several verses that speak to this hope:

O come, O Branch of Jesse’s stem,
unto your own and rescue them!
From depths of hell your people save,
and give them victory o’er the grave.

O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light.

And of course, the refrain is not one of sorrow, but of joy: Rejoice! Immanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

I was struck by the beauty of the cemetery as we walked through it to the graves of our family members. Everywhere we walked, trees and flowers embraced the graves around them. It was a beautifully strong image of new life overcoming death.

Hope is essential to the Christian life. It is because of this liturgical season, preparing for the Incarnation of our Lord, that we can have hope. We can see the trees and the flowers blossoming over the graves of our loved ones and pray Lord have mercy, with hope. We can ask the communion of saints to pray for us, with hope. We can face our own deaths with hope. And in the end, we can taunt death and the grave, saying with the psalmist and St John Chrysostom: O death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? Christ is risen and you are abolished.

thanksgiving

/ Rachel Fenton / 4 Comments

It’s been a wonderful Thanksgiving week. My best friend came for the weekend before, and having her here was a balm for my soul.

She held my child so I could do things around the house, made me one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in a while, and cleaned and organized my house for me whenever I put Michael down for a nap.

The evenings were filled with wine and games and deep conversations and ridiculous jokes. I laughed and I cried, and felt more alive than I had in a while. I am so grateful for her friendship.

My siblings flew home for Thanksgiving on Saturday too, and I was able to host my entire family at my house for the first time.

I made a purple sweet potato soup that turned out more vibrant and beautiful than I anticipated. I had made it with regular sweet potatoes before, but never purple ones: now I have a new favorite dish.

Guests began arriving Wednesday, and we had a delightful meal together (a pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving) and a blind scotch tasting (which made the evening games a lot more entertaining).

Thanksgiving at our house is always a huge and communal affair. I think we had a total of twenty-four people this year.

This year, I made the pumpkin pies and my spiced red wine cranberry sauce, and Jake made the dinner rolls.

We also have a yearly tradition of taking photos every Thanksgiving. It’s a great way to get an updated family photo for the Christmas cards! We have a few nice ones that I’m saving for our Christmas card, but I love these more candid ones of us.

I finished Michael’s Thanksgiving sweater just in time: I frantically knit the last sleeve and wove in my ends while Michael took his morning nap, and did a quick steam block to smooth the stitches.

It was my first ever colorwork project, and I’m quite proud over how it turned out. There are a few tension mistakes but otherwise I count it a success. It fits him perfectly.

Michael got to try his first bites of Thanksgiving dinner: I think his favorite was the whipped cream.

Thanksgiving is often a complicated holiday: not only because of its origins in things I disagree with (colonization and Puritanism) but also because our culture’s emphasis on family can leave some out in the cold. Often the “nuclear family” is put on a pedestal as the highest good.

Family is wonderful and beautiful and important. It is something to be preserved and cherished. But we should not limit our understanding of homes to a nuclear family. Thanksgiving is a time to remember and include those who might have a complicated relationship with their families, or too much distance between them and their families, or have no families. For these people, we are called to be their family.

One of the things I love most about Thanksgiving is how it resurrects the virtues of gratitude and hospitality in our society. The ancient understanding of hospitality has stuck with me ever since I read Greek mythology in elementary school. For them, hospitality is a virtue because you never know when you could be entertaining gods in disguise.

As Christians, our homes and tables should always be open to all, because we know that each and every person is an icon of Christ. We don’t have to wonder if we’re entertaining gods in disguise: we know that by serving each other, we serve Christ. Every meal can be a Thanksgiving meal: a chance to open our tables to our fellow man and our hearts to the virtues of gratitude and hospitality.

So may there always be room for one more person at our tables, and may we take these virtues of gratitude and hospitality forward with us beyond Thanksgiving Day.

ten months

/ Rachel Fenton / 2 Comments

And just like that, Michael is ten months old. Over the past month, it seems as though he’s grown in leaps and bounds.

This week he said his first intentional word: “bye bye”, complete with adorable little wave. He’s done it several times since, but we haven’t been able to catch it on camera.

He also clapped his hands for the first time, and is very shy about repeating the action (though I’ve seen him clapping to himself a few times while playing). He occasions stands by himself without any support, but he seems content to crawl for the time being.

Opening his Namesday gift from his godmother

He is hardly ever still: he is intensely curious and wants to figure everything out. Pulling books from the bookshelves is one of his favorite past times, as is chewing on them.

He loves climbing things and has figured out how to scale our stairs, couch, chairs, and even how to pull up on the oven. He hasn’t quite figured out how to get down without going bonk, so my days are quite busy and a little frazzled.

He loves chicken and pasta and bananas, and anything else he can thoughtfully squish between his fingers.

Sleep is still his nemesis. I look forward to the day he realizes sleep is his friend.

Fresh nap bedhead

One of his favorite things to do is throw the ball for the dogs with grandpa and sit outside by the fire pit. Grandpa is Michael’s best friend, and I love their special relationship.

The joys of motherhood greatly outshine the numerous difficulties. I love watching as Michael begins to interact with the world more and more.

Happy ten months, my son. We love you.

sweater weather

/ Rachel Fenton / Leave a comment

After almost three months of knitting, I finally finished my first full-size sweater! The pattern is the Nurtured Sweater by Andrea Mowry, and my yarn is 100% wool in Cascade 220’s “sparrow” color.

I’ve made baby sweaters and jackets but was a bit intimidated by full-sized garments. Baby clothes are forgiving: you just want to knit a slightly larger size so if your gauge is off, they’ll grow into them. With adult clothes, there are a lot of variables, which means a lot of things can go wrong. Plus, this sweater had an interesting slip-stitch pattern which added another layer of difficulty.

Even though I ran into a handful of problems and there are a few small mistakes, I’m incredibly proud of this sweater. I love the way it fits, I love how warm it is, I love the color, and I love the mossy texture of the stitches. I like to name my knitting projects and I’ve named this one my “secret garden sweater” because both the color and texture remind me of a garden just coming to life.

I’m now working on a colorwork sweater for Michael (my first colorwork project!) and swatching for Jake’s Christmas/birthday sweater.

Jake and I celebrated his birthday with a date at our favorite local restaurant. We love this place so much: they had a birthday card waiting for us, and gave us a celebratory spumoni.

We are working through the lingering traces of our colds, so we’ve been resting and only doing small projects around the house. We still aren’t fully moved in — the master bedroom and both bathrooms need a lot of work — but rest is taking priority right now.

The weather has been delightfully chilly (just in time for my finished sweater!) and we’ve had some glorious sunsets. We’ve had some beautiful evenings out by the fire pit with my parents.

As I make dinner and Michael plays (or hangs on my leg, wanting to help), I’ve been turning on some quiet folk music or a podcast as I work and the sun begins to set.

It’s almost as if the sun is trying to make up for the time change and the frosty mornings. Watching the golden evening light play around our kitchen and living room has made me fall in love with our little cottage even more.

celebrations

/ Rachel Fenton / 4 Comments

Last Wednesday Michael got a miserable cold that quickly spread to every member of the family (including my mom and dad). We’ve been hunkering down with a sleep-deprived, stuffy-nosed baby and slowly recovering.

Even though this illness made us cancel a trip we’d been looking forward to and has kept me from updating my blog as often as I would like, there are still many things to celebrate over the course of this week.

I had photos and an article published in the November issue of HerLife magazine! You can read it here, and I’ve included a screenshot of their beautiful spread.

They did such an incredible job, and I’m so thrilled that I have the opportunity to contribute.

Autumn on our little homestead comes with its own set of tasks. We clear away dead brush and prepare the trees for winter, and catch up on whatever other tasks didn’t get completed during the summer. It feels like the land is letting out a deep, contented sigh and getting ready to rest.

Before the illness hit us too hard, my parents were able to trim back one of our large mulberry trees. Michael enjoyed watching (even though he was snuffly). It feels so good to check these tasks off our lists and slowly start to prepare for the sleepy chill of winter.

It was Michael’s name day in the Eastern calendar on November 8th, but all of us were still recovering from this cold, so unfortunately we weren’t able to celebrate the way I wish we could have. His wonderful godmother sent him a text and prayed for us.

He always gravitates towards our prayer corner. I often have to stop him from ripping the prayer books from their stacks, but he loves it when I take down the icon of St Michael for him. He’s been keeping me accountable with doing morning prayers.

Over all the Nine Ranks (of angels), the Lord appointed the Holy Archangel Michael (his name in Hebrew means “who is like unto God”), the faithful servitor of God, as Chief Commander. He cast down from Heaven the arrogantly proud Lucifer and the other fallen spirits when they rebelled against God. Michael summoned the ranks of angels and cried out, “Let us attend! Let us stand aright before our Creator and do not consider doing what is displeasing unto God!”

Synaxis of the Archangel Michael and the Other Bodiless Powers from oca.org

I chose Michael’s name quite intentionally (as I discussed in my Michaelmas post) and I continue to be glad I chose such a strong name for my strong son. May St. Michael’s faithfulness and strength be an inspiration to all of us.

We also celebrated my dear husband’s birthday this week. Later we’ll have a date at our favorite restaurant to celebrate just the two of us, but I loved making him special meals on the actual day.

His birthday cake request is always German Chocolate Cake, which is so much fun to bake, and makes the whole house smell heavenly.

I am not the best baker — I prefer cooking, where I don’t have to be quite as precise and have more room for creative modifications — but I think these turned out pretty well.

Watching Jake become a dad has been a highlight of this year. He is such an attentive and kind father, and Michael absolutely adores him.

Jake has embraced fatherhood with all its joys and sacrifices. Despite his demanding job, he often takes time throughout the day to come in and give Michael a quick snuggle (and give me a short break). When Michael wakes at 5:30 or 6:00 am, Jake takes him to walk around the property or play in the living room so I can get another hour of sleep.

Being his wife is the greatest blessing I’ve ever been given. He’s supported me through some of my hardest times, and laughed with me during some of my best times. He makes me a happier, holier person.

May God grant you many years, my beloved.

happy november

/ Rachel Fenton / 3 Comments

Michael’s favorite book has been The Very Hungry Caterpillar ever since his eyes could focus on a page, so I knew we needed to incorporate it into his Halloween costume somehow.

A few months ago, my sister sent me something (Reel? TikTok? Who knows anymore? *grumbles in millennial*). It showed a baby in a Very Hungry Caterpillar costume, with all of his family members wearing shirts from the different days of the week and the fruits from the book.

We decided to do something similar: we got themed shirts for every adult (me, Jake, Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, and Great Aunt!) to go along with his Very Hungry Caterpillar. As you can see in the photo above, I’m Wednesday and Jake was Saturday.

Our first stop was at the Grand House. Unfortunately, due to my grandmother’s health and timing issues, we weren’t able to get a picture all together of us wearing the t-shirts on Halloween. But we will get one later this week, and I’ll be sure to post it at a later date.

We drove to some dear friends’ houses and stopped by to say hello and trick or treat as a family. It was so much fun seeing the small crowds of children in their colorful costumes traipsing up and down the sidewalks. It reminded me of all the fun times I had on Halloween.

Our candy haul was minimal, but we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

The day after Halloween it was delightfully gloomy. The skies gave us some much needed rain, and I made banana-pumpkin bread to warm up the house and help keep Michael occupied.

We also seeded a pomegranate to garnish tonight’s dinner. I was reminded of CS Lewis’ book The Silver Chair. It briefly mentions a magical land deep underground in Narnia called Bism, where gnomes and salamanders dwell and they eat living gemstones. Every time I eat a pomegranate, I think of Bism: I’m sure a pomegranate aril looks a lot like those living gemstones.

November is quite possibly my favorite month of the year. I have so many delightful things associated with it. For starters, it’s the first day of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), which is something I have been participating in since 2011.

For NaNoWriMo, you write 50,000 words in one month, which is approximately 1600 words a day. While I haven’t hit the 50,000 word count every year, I’ve still participated and cheered on other writers.

Here’s an ancient Instagram photo from the first day of NaNoWriMo 2013.

I encourage every aspiring author to try it out at least once. As a young writer it helped me develop a habit of writing daily, and writing through the rough patches, and writing even when I didn’t quite feel like it. I also have wonderful memories of staying up on Halloween with a big bowl of candy from trick-or-treating and starting a new story as the clock struck midnight. The sense of camaraderie with other writers all over the world is something that’s stuck with me to this day.

November also reminds me of one of my favorite books, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. When November rolls around, that first line runs through my head: It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.

If you haven’t read it, I heartily recommend it as your November read. It’s a story about mythical water horses that takes place on an island very similar to Ireland. It’s beautiful and haunting and magical and fun (and not as scary as it sounds, trust me).

I’m always looking for more autumnal books, so if you have any recommendations, please let me know! It’s the perfect month to reevaluate my to-be-read pile, and bake bread, and listen to Joan Shelley and the Oh Hellos, and knit cardigans and sweaters, and enjoy the sound of rain on the windows. Happy November!