Merry Christmas 2023

 In the middle of wrapping presents and listening to good music, I realized it was time to wish you all a deeply peaceful and joyful Christmas. So... welcome!

The big tree near our front door had to be taken out this year. It was sad to see it go, but a small one now stands in its place. Time will fill it in. Sometimes the best gifts come in small packages, and luckily the size of the package does not limit the amount of hope it carries. Hope soars. Hope radiates at Christmas.

And do you see the star in front of the bush?  That star used to top our big tree.  I decided it could shine its light where it is, hung on a small metal post. Our new tree isn't ready for it yet, but the star still glows. "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

We won't put up a tree this year, but I'm decorating the house with some of my favorite ornaments.  Love is at the heart of Christmas, tree or no tree. 

For the past several years, the telling of the 1914 truce titled All is Calm on PBS, sung by an extraordinary men's choir, has been one of my Christmas highlights.  Watch for it! I recommend it to you wholeheartedly.  

My wish for all of you is in the poem below, with my thanks to Linda Mitchell for creating the perfect star for the top of my poet-tree.  

This

time of year

presents a mystery

That out of darkness

comes a ray of light...A

time to dream, to gather family

To tell the holy tale of that first night

To hug a child and sing to heart's delight

To feast and laugh and bask in family lore

May all these yuletide blessings find your door.

@Karen Eastlund

2021

It is Poetry Friday, and you can find all the Poetry Friday gang at Jone's... click HERE.  

Thanks so much for hosting, Jone!  

Constructive comments welcome! 

Hope is a Beautiful Thing

Thanks to Dave Roller for hosting our Spiritual Journey this month.  Find his post and links to other Spiritual Journey posts HERE.  

In a spurt of energy, with the beauty and renewal of spring as my prompt, I stepped into a number of activities that have required a lot of energy. I borrowed an historical exhibit for our town that ended up being way bigger than I realized. I added a little to my garden. I joined a weekly prayer group. Tomorrow a big landscaping job will begin in our front yard. And I agreed to plan and lead the craft sessions at our Vacation Bible School. 

What on earth was I thinking? I could write of optimism, but I think there's a better word: Hope. I hoped I could do these things.  Age and stage make a mark, but hope keeps me going, and hope is a beautiful thing.

My garden whispers hope every day...

In choir we sing: My hope is in the Lord, who gave himself for me...

And then I came upon this poem by Lisel Mueller:

Hope

It hovers in dark corners

before the lights are turned on,

it shakes sleep from its eyes

and drops from mushroom gills,

it explodes in the starry heads

of dandelions turned sages,

it sticks to the wings of green angels

that sail from the tops of maples.

***

It is the singular gift

we cannot destroy in ourselves,

the argument that refutes death,

the genius that invents the future,

all we know of God.

Read the entire poem and enjoy Tom Petty's beautiful music HERE.

During Covid, someone left this gift on my doorstep...

Romans 5:5

  And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

I am thankful for the hope and the energy that has stood me in good stead.  Hope is a thing of beauty. I hope you find its beauty also.

Hemmed with Quietness

 Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday! Those of us who post here share our journeys once a month. This month our focus is waiting, hope, and the seasonal holidays.

In the Christian tradition, this is the season of advent... a season of preparation for the coming of the Christ child. The season reminds me of pregnancy, it is a time of waiting and hope. These days, however, can get crazy busy. I have to remind myself... what is my focus?

I have a wonderful book of prayers that I'm sharing from today. It offers two year's of daily readings as well as many other resources. 

From The Celtic Book of Prayer: Prayers and Readings from the Northumbria Community,  Aidan's readings, the meditation for Dec. 7th offers these two gems:

  The pilgrim worried that he would not have much time to care for his love-relationship with God. The Lord answered:

    Do you have only one minute? Hem it with quietness. Do not spend it thinking how little time you have. I can give you much in one minute.  

    As the ripples of the river glance up to the light, let your heart glance up to Me in little looks of love very often in the day.

Many traditions celebrate this time of year. I wish you all gentle holidays. May your days be hemmed with quietness. May you find time to glance up with love. May your season be blessed with peace and joy.

Thanks to Christine Margoqs for providing our prompt this month and for hosting today. You can find Christine's most interesting post HERE.

    

Finding the Good

 Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday. On the first Thursday of each month we gather to share our insights. This month our focus is on virtues. 

As some of you know, I am #9 in a family of 10. Being one of the younger members, I have witnessed the death of a number of my siblings. This past month our number dwindled again, from six to five. Today I'd like to tell you about some virtues I noticed in the life of my oldest brother, Emil. 

Emil was a minister by calling, with special training in family systems and addiction issues. He was an avid fisherman, carver, cross country skier, poet, and story writer. His way was not easy. He had health issues for much of his life, and he had lost two sons and his wife.  

Emil was almost 20 when I came along, so he was chosen as one of my baptismal sponsors. He carved this little chickadee for me. Later, he wrote about seeing a chickadee at his window in the deep winter, and how it brought him hope.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

- Emily Dickinson

Emil always had a faithful outlook on life. He considered himself a peacemaker... a bridge builder... and when our family gathered he would ask that we put our differences behind us and enjoy being together. He provided leadership and courage, and our gatherings benefitted. 

I was amazed at Emil's endurance. I spoke with him a number of times while the senior residence was in total lockdown. He was completely isolated, unable to have any visitors, meals alone in his room. It was difficult for him, but didn't waste his time complaining. Instead, he found meaning in writing his memories and sharing them, reading, and contemplating life.

Emil was generous. For a number of years he invited family to his home in Wisconsin for a winter weekend ski-in. My gang attended just once, but the time we had together was wonderful. 

Emil and Judy, his wife, spent several weeks caring for my oldest sister, Margaret, when she was ill with cancer and her husband needed knee surgery. They cooked and cleaned and helped every way they could. What a labor of love!

I hardly remember a conversation with Emil that did not include a good laugh. He had a sense of humor and often saw humor that I would have missed, had he not pointed it out. 

Siblings see each other's weaknesses as well as strengths. We know the warts and foibles as well as glory and beauty. Yes, we had times of discord and impatience. That's only human. Through it all, we learned to love each other. Relationships take work, but it is good work, and work that I believe we are called to. A good model helps along the way, and I thank God for Emil and the good he upheld.

It is a great blessing when we can find virtue in others and have good models to follow. I hope you have good models in your life, and I wish you sweet and meaningful journeys.

8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 

Blessings all...

PS: Please post your links in the comment section. I'll do my best to round them up, but we have severe weather here now, so in case I can't get online you can follow each other via comments.

All Things New

 

The chorus of songbirds has begun to echo each dawn.  Why do they sing? Scientists have theories, but to me it seems a chorus of joy, a spontaneous celebration of the new day. Their songs have a sense of life and hope about them. The robin says "chirry up!" The cardinal answers "What cheer, cheer, cheer." 

Who can resist the feelings of hope and joy that one gets from participating in nature's birth? Edward Giobbi

All kinds of buds are opening, the lawns greening, the trees showing some life. We find great joy, great hope in these signs. The cold death of winter loses its strength, warm days of promise are ahead, and new life, suddenly, is all around us. New life is at our door. It blesses us. We have been given the chance to start over, and start with a fresh slate. Anything is possible. 

Earth is crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God, but only he who sees takes off his shoes.  Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The soft velvet of an infant's cheek brings tears to our eyes, reminds us of vulnerability and possibility, of the miracle of life. Nothing touches us so deeply. This is the promise we treasure, and we celebrate each new milestone: the first smile, the first word, the first step, the first day at school. 

The Christian tradition often speaks of newness, a new order, a clean slate. I rest in that promise, especially this year. 

1 Peter 1:3  Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead...

So I share with you this prayer poem from Celtic Daily Prayer... from the Northumbria Community...

If my lips could sing as many songs

as there are waves in the sea:

if my tongue could sing as many hymns

as there are ocean billows:

if my mouth

filled the firmament with praise:

if my face

shone like the sun and moon together:

if my hands

were to hover in the sky like powerful eagles

and my feet

ran across mountains as swiftly as the deer:

all that would not be enough

to pay You fitting tribute,

O Lord my God.

                                              -Unknown author

Chopin's Spring Waltz

Many blessings to you for this spring season and this Holy Week. Please leave your links in the comments below and I will round them up throughout the day or days ahead.

Join Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town as she ponders redemption and shares a  John O'Donnell poem.

Linda Mitchell at A Word Edgewise reminds us of Christ's commandment.

Find Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche to read her artists prayer.

Don't miss Fran Haley's post at Lit Bits and Pieces as she shares her journey of hope.

A Golden Shovel poem digs deep into renewal at Ramona's  Pleasures from the Page.

Carol Varsalona shares delight at the end of an arduous journey at Beyond Literacy Link

Chris Margocs joins us today, with her post at Horizon 51.  Welcome, Chris!

Hope is the Thing that Sings

I know it has been a very very rough week. I have friends and relatives in Minneapolis and lived there myself for 15 years. And now across the country... My prayers are with you all. I hope that my confession below will not add to your load, but offer a glimmer of hope in words and song.

I heard this week that our church services, which have been virtual since mid-March, will continue to be virtual, at least for the next month or so. I can live with that. But then I heard that even when we come back to worship, we will not be singing. Why? Because of the possible spread of pathogens. Because when we sing, we breath deeply and project air from the bottom of our lungs, and that air can be filled with our germs.

I love singing. I've been in choir for many years. I don't really know how many, but probably around 25. It isn't that I'm a good singer, it's that singing is so good for me. I hear the harmonies, I challenge myself with the notes and rhythms, and I internalize the words. To quote St. Augustine:

I've listened to music all during the quarantine, but it does not fill the need to sing in choir. Reading and practicing music requires learning and a sense of beauty and challenge and brain twisting all at the same time. My words cannot fully do it justice. But in choir I hear the beauty. I am part of the beauty. And I love the beauty. And I love the sense of worshipful camaraderie there also. Of all the activities I take part in, choir is the most fulfilling.

So in the midst of the everything else, I think this moment in time, more than many others, needs singing. Maybe others feel as I do. Maybe we can find a way to make this work. Certainly I don't want to spread disease, but I do want singing. There was an attempt early on to make a virtual choir, but it was dropped and quite frankly I was glad. It would not work for me. I need to be with strong voices that buoy me up. Strong voices encourage me, in the truest sense of the word, and I will work toward making that happen.

All this is a very roundabout way of saying that I have hope, and music is part of the reason that I do. The words of the song below express my feelings quite well. This hymn was written by Robert Lowry in 1869.  Here are the original words:

My life flows on in endless song;

Above earth's lamentation,

I hear the sweet, tho' far-off hymn

That hails a new creation;

Thro' all the tumult and the strife

I hear the music ringing;

It finds an echo in my soul—

How can I keep from singing?

What tho' my joys and comforts die?

The Lord my Saviour liveth;

What tho' the darkness gather round?

Songs in the night he giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm

While to that refuge clinging;

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,

How can I keep from singing?

I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin;

I see the blue above it;

And day by day this pathway smooths,

Since first I learned to love it,

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,

A fountain ever springing;

All things are mine since I am his—

How can I keep from singing?

Here's a virtual choir from NYC singing it... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLPP3XmYxXg

The words have been modified by many people and for various reasons, so you can find many versions here and there. I first learned it from a Pete Seeger recording years ago. I especially love the first two verses...  perfect for today. 

My life flows on in endless song
Above Earth's lamentation
I hear the real, though far off hymn
That hails the new creation
Above the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul
How can I keep from singing?

What though the tempest loudly roars
I hear the truth, it liveth
What though the darkness round me close
Songs in the night it giveth
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging
Since love is lord of Heaven and Earth
How can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble, sick with fear
And hear their death-knell ringing
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?

My thanks to you for joining me today, and thanks to Ruth Hersey for hosting. Click the link below to read her wonderful blog about hope, and God coming into deep waters.