advice of the greatest variety

some of the best advice i've ever been given is this:
celebrate everything with candles.

grandma and granddad pritchard (bob & alda, matt's great grandparents) are some of the dearest souls i've ever known. i first met them at thanksgiving, when matt and i had just become a couple and it was our first holiday spent together. i went with him and his family to grandma and granddad's beautiful home on rocky bay near gig harbor. i loved them instantly and felt the same in return; that was a treat in and of itself. but the real treat came in getting to know them more and piecing together my understanding of who they were according to the home and life they built together, and the stories of friends and family who had been touched by grandma and granddad and were never the same again. they were hardcore YoungLife'ers, which almost says it all, yet not quite- i don't know how any explanation could do their stories justice because they were just that beautiful, those two.

granddad had a woodshop; he was a patternmaker. he made lovely things out of wood that were remarkable to behold. for our wedding, he created a very handsome, stout candlestick of dark wood in a round shape of curves. he and grandma presented it to us along with an ivory-colored candle with a crackled, unfinished texture. attached was a note on paper with raw edges. in grandma's beautiful script were the words, "celebrate everything with candles."

i love simple things. i love the depth of well-crafted words when used intentionally. and i love that message, that advice because it means a lot... to celebrate, to enjoy, to triumph, to relish in not only the glorious events, momentous occasions, and milestones, but also (and perhaps more importantly) the dreary days too- the quiet ones, the ordinary, the uneventful, and the regular ones. because we have each other. and that is always worth celebrating.

and so i learned to light candles for dinners that aren't fancy (even on the broccoli & chicken casserole nights), on days that aren't encouraging, in times that contentment is harder found. because when things in the world crumble, closeness with another is very much like what is found on the end of that candle wick- a lovely, warm glow that makes shadows bounce and smiles glow and fashions the ordinary into special.

my mom has given me advice also pertaining to candles. when the world's gotten me in a huff of tense shoulders, angry eyebrows, and frust, her priceless advice is to, "honey. just put your hair in a scrunchy, get into your softest pair of sweatpants, light a candle." somehow those icons of comfort (except for the scrunchy- i will never understand the role of the scrunchy in this equation for comfort, mom!), this soft, warm light and the glow it casts can change the spirit of despair into one of celebration- of praise- a good one.

we were visiting good friends in portland this weekend. they had candles lit in their apartment when we arrived, which were relit in the morning, and each time we returned from being out, and were always burning when we were there. it felt calm and peaceful.

maybe the act of lighting candles runs deeper than the act itself; in moments and on days where things don't feel right and we feel out of sorts, lighting candles can feel like a real picture of choosing light over darkness. it sounds cheeseball, but it feels true. warmth over coldness. thankfulness over dissatisfaction. celebration instead of taking for granted. enjoying instead of overlooking.

it makes a relationship beautiful. matt and i love lighting candles.

i am not shy about passing this advice along. it's my favorite advice to share for friends' weddings, and if you know me well, you'll probably hear me say it or see me write it if you havent already. because it's just that good.

celebrate everything with candles.

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what's the best advice you've ever received?