Three Things and Three More | Volume 5

'tis the season

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Three Things and Three More is an every-other-month(ish) newsletter with three bitesized (probably unrelated) essays and three quick (also probably unrelated) things I want to share with you.

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Three Things

1. What’s in, What’s out for 2024

   In

   Seasonal fruits/Muting accounts/Leaving long voice messages/Poetry books/Saying hello first/Apologizing first/One bed, two blankets/Notes app/Grocery delivery/Printed recipes/Throwing around compliments/Chasing the light/Noticing/9 PM/Long-form writing/Slow starts
   
   Out

   Sad beige/Doomscrolling/Overthinking emoji usage/Microtrends/Grocery hauls/Imposter Syndrome/Yucking on yums/Rejecting help/Streaming subscriptions/Cottage cheese/Feeling behind/Decanting/Food blogs/Scrolling past bedtime/Butter boards/Hustling

   
   

2. Joy Like Cake
   If joy was something we could grip,

   we’d dig it from the ground,

   reach deep into the belly of the earth,

   and wipe away the dirt.

   We could hold it up to the weak rays of the sun,

   catch a glimmer,

   a rainbow prism.

   Keep it close.

   We could tuck it in our pocket,

   and reach back into the dirt in search of more.
   
   If joy was something we could see,

   It’d be the first light of the sun

   Just when we thought it might never come

   After the longest, darkest night.

   But—there it is.
   The faintest flicker on the horizon

   It’s arms reaching across the sky,

   Touching the valleys and caves

   Spilling its yellow glow
   
   If joy was something we could taste,

   we could roll around its crumbs

   like leftover cake between our palms.

   We could brush it onto our plates

   and press the bits between the prongs of our forks

   and lift it to our mouths

   and savor it on our tongues.

   We could pass the serving platter and knife to the next person.

   Here, have another. Please.

   There’s so much more.

   
   

3. Chasing the Light
   I’m in the kitchen washing the lettuce for tonight’s salad. It’s the longest night of the year, and the sun is already setting, the kitchen growing dimmer and dimmer. But I hear them in the living room. She’s asking for a specific song in Farsi, something about the rain is all I catch. The Bluetooth speaker connects, and the familiar beginning beats of the song start playing. I don’t see them. I’m patting the lettuce leaves dry with a tea towel. I’m wiping up the water droplets on the countertop. But I hear my husband’s voice. He’s singing to the song, words I don’t understand, but his voice is loud and clear. I hear tiny scuffles of tiny feet. I don’t see her, but I know my daughter is dancing, waving a streamer or her small blanket above her head, running circles around the living room. I’m rinsing down the sink, taking a soap sponge over the stainless steel. But I want to bottle this moment up and wear it around my neck so I can unscrew the top and inhale its scent whenever needed. I want to pin it down, like butterfly wings behind glass, like laundry on a line. All I know is this is how it should be.

And Three More

1. One Book I’m Reading

   Every day before dinner, my daughter video calls my mom in the States. This winter, my mom picked up the Yasmin Series by Saadia Faruqi from the library to read to her during their calls. It’s a cute transitional chapter book series about a second grade girl named Yasmin. Yasmin finds herself in different situations throughout the series (gardening, cooking, and ice skating, to name a few) where she must use her imagination and spunk to problem solve. Great for beginner readers who love the Mercy Watson series and the Owl Diaries—and great for grandmas and grandkids who live far from each other.
   
   

2. One Meal I’m Making

   I try to avoid the chaos of food blogs and stick to my printed-out recipe book for dinners, but I perused Pinterest one day looking for some new inspiration and came upon Plant Based School’s Red Pepper Pasta. Quick and easy to throw together, and if you’ve got extra time, I definitely recommend tossing in roasted eggplant at the end.

   

3. One Thing I Want You To Know

   This sermon, titled “Christ Under the Rubble” by Pastor Munther Isaac, the head of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bethlehem. It’s worth setting aside some time to listen to the sermon in its entirety.
   “And in this Christmas season, as we search for Jesus, he is to be found not on the side of Rome, but our side of the wall. In a cave, with a simple family. Vulnerable. Barely, and miraculously surviving a massacre. Among a refugee family. This is where Jesus is found.” Lord Emmanuel—God with us—bring your peace to the hurting parts of our world.