Every year I don’t plan for the week between Christmas and New Years to be a “dark week” I regret it.
I regret it again this year too.
A dark week to me means a few days to stay home, recover from the hustle and bustle. Maybe sit on the couch and read. Maybe clean a closet (although nothing more ambitious than that, really.)
Instead, I’ll be going to work this week. Pushing hard to finish a couple of projects that happen to come to crunch time the same week. Not good. Not good at all.
And I’ll be pushing to get to the next step with G’s townhouse: painting and estimating new carpet. Because you see we can’t do anything with that house – sell, rent, offer it to squatters – without new carpet. Not only because the carpet is more than 25 years old and stretched and saggy, but also because it’s filthy.
So, what am I grateful for in all this?
- that I had good time with my boys on Christmas eve.
- that we had a nice Christmas morning together too
- that they liked the couple of things I got them
- that I didn’t try to make everyone happy
- that I didn’t obsess too much (out loud) about my family not contacting me
- that I got to take a lot of naps over the weekend
- that I got to see SrS and SrK this weekend!
- that I got to lead some wonderful worship services
- that the kids’ choir sang so beautifully on Christmas Eve
- that I know (at least) three preachers who don’t shirk the hard stuff
- for singing Christmas carols next to G
- that I have a job that is keeping the lights and heat on
- that the PT call process seems to be moving ahead on track
Lots of other things too that make little sense without a lot more context:
- Karin Armstrong
- ongoing incarnation
Some prayers today:
For all who flee their homeland and are refugees and for all who live as aliens and the countries in which they live. For children who are afraid in their own homes. Give us eyes to see and compassion to act to provide safety and friendship. Fill the hearts and minds of leaders with creative solutions to safeguard the lives of all who live within their borders.
For all who are still so threatened by the idea of the almighty creator of the universe becoming a humble and vulnerable baby that they commit heinous acts of violence against the poor and powerless. Stay the hand that flies in violence and fill the hearts of stone with compassion. Beat our swords into plowshares because we refuse to do it ourselves.