Sunday, January 25, 2026

Speak to Me Sunday: Polishing Silver

 “The best way to polish silver is to use it.”

That was one of the first lessons I learned four years ago when I started working part-time at Angevine’s Fine Silver & Gifts, and as someone who was getting a crash course on silver and flatware patterns, I appreciated the simplicity of that lesson. It was something I could share while maneuvering through the antique silver world: when a customer would come in to buy silver polish but was complaining about having to polish their Christmas silver, I could now say, “Well, you know what they say. The best way to polish silver is to use it.”

Simple. Helpful. Useful. True. And that simple phrase is pregnant with a life lesson.

Picture it. A pair of candlesticks, stored in a cupboard, hidden away and slowly turning a brown that is not rust, but rather a thin black layer of silver sulfide. All the shininess is lost, all the sparkle that makes that item special is gone.

To be sure, the shininess still is there, but it is buried, and the more time passes the harder it becomes to return it to its former shiny state. It takes time to buff and polish and wash, and when the effort becomes too overwhelming, the candlesticks are returned to the cupboard for next time. Except next time gets postponed to another next time. And so it goes.

The best way to polish silver is to use it may be more elegant than saying use it or lose it, but the sentiment is the same.  

So here it is January, bringing with it resolutions and brand-new beginnings riding on the coat tails of all the sparkle and shine from the holidays, as well as a reminder of  the paradox that the only way to keep something in working form—so we can continue to use it!—is simply to use it.

This is nothing new, nothing we do not already know, but somehow it is easily pushed aside. 

Which brings me to my one-word resolution, something I do every year. Just one word (or phrase) to provide focus, clarity, and direction in the new year. In the past, I have chosen words such as spontaneity, embrace, or pronto (“now” or “I am ready”).

But this year … this year my word is argento. The Italian word for silver.

Argento. To remind me to use the silver.

Argento. To encourage me to exercise my body, nurture my mind, explore my talents, grow in faith.

Argento. To remind me to stay polished.  


Sunday, January 4, 2026

Speak to Me Sunday: The Gift of Again

Today, we put away Christmas.

We packed away the ribbons and tags; we stored away packages, boxes, and bags.

We basically undid everything we did a month and a half ago. All that fuss to prepare and just like that it is over. Next December we will repeat the process again.

As I watched all the vestiges of Christmas disappear, it dawned on me how much of life is comprised of repeated actions: decorate for Christmas, undecorate for Christmas; throw a load in the washer, and two days later another load goes in; rake the leaves, and do it again after a windy day; say “no” to a toddler, and repeat that one word for the next 18 years; go to church on Sunday, go to church EVERY Sunday. Then there are birthday celebrations, wellness checkups, New Year resolutions, good intentions, and yes, even mistakes. All done on repeat.

The pessimists of the world may see this as drudgery, that with the repetitions we are like Sisyphus in Greek mythology, doomed for all eternity to push a huge boulder to the top of the mountain only to have to repeat the process when it rolls back down again.

But by putting away Christmas, in repeating a process I will do again, I recognized it for what it was: the Gift of Again.

The life we live, in big ways and small, reflects and works in harmony with the seasons in nature, the cycles of the moon, the rising and setting of the sun, the liturgical seasons of the church, the passage of time. And between the bookends of birth and death, the Gift of Again allows us to see, breathe, taste, feel, and experience the same things, but in different ways.

What a precious gift to have the chance to relive and build upon. A moment to straddle yesterday and tomorrow and to merge the two for a more meaningful present.

So, I packed away the ribbons and tags, the packages, boxes, and bags. Again.

Hallelujah!