Christmas in the Family

We watch the world go by at speed limit, all in two rows, shoulder to shoulder as if we were connected there. Because we are connected there. And hearts glow like the stars outside, and mouths move and out comes one joy, then another.

Youngest sister dodges sleep; little head leaning light, little hand on my arm. Pretty as the ice-coated night. The rest discuss the favored Soprano during Messiah, (the first one in red, please) the old Tenor who stoops more than he did last year-- and we hope he has many more years in the Methodist choir. (He, our general favorite.) 

We giggle re-dwelling the funniest antics on the rink, discuss the performance of the less experienced (stellar), decide whether or not to spend the balance of the evening making bagels in the classic country kitchen warm as summer. That is, if the power is actually on at home...

We stop where the wires are down across the road, turn around to find another way home. Shout "Thank YOU" out open car window to the utility men who'll be here wrangling icy copper until daybreak and beyond.

And once again, the holy joy that makes a day a holiday is wound around this beautiful gift, family. 

We don't deserve it. Them. But here we are, loved, loving...

- - -

And right into the middle of this warm-heartedness this word sinks like a cold dagger-- 

Abandoned. 

And not that He was... (He was.)

But that He did.

That He walked away from the adoring, from everything and everyone familiar... That He left companionship. That comfy spot between beloved shoulders... The little hand on His arm, the little head, the perfect sleepy face, the warm chatter, the laughter at the end of an unblemished day, He left it. 

He told them to scoot in to fill the gap, to be the pillow He'd been. Stood up and walked to the gate, swung it open, waited for the click, walked way into the universe to spend His first Christmas all alone.

So we could have Christmas at all.

Sympathy with Humanity

I wasn't complaining. Though it sounds a bit like it now...
On a peninsula of rock jutting like a castle between a gorge and a vale I stood, breathless from the scramble. Hands in my pockets and with eager step, if heavy heart.

Perhaps a few will understand when I say I carry on my heart at any given time a thousand reasons to laugh, and a thousand reasons to weep. Most all of them with first and last names.
Such is the cost of loving humanity, I suppose.

Anyway, this post isn't about me.

I'd just gained the crest, just finished a brief review comparing the power at my disposal with my far-too-often dismal performance, just realized afresh how deep mercy reaches, and—

It's not fair, You know? I deserve the lot of the criminal, but here I stand in converse with The Infinite, while people I love slowly die in the clutches of fear....

Can you see why happiness means nothing to me when it's mine alone?

...So, it's all or nothing.

Either I am to be completely at Your disposal to help the weak, comfort the wounded, and actually lift, and heal, and effect a lasting change, or...

Or, I want out right. now. 

Because it hurts too much to be in sympathy with humanity.

Ever have you been in that place or time when suddenly every tree in the wood seemed to drop its jaw and gape? and you wonder:

what did I do. What did I just say?

The only answer is this electric silence.

I glance one way and the other. Wait.

He never says. But suddenly it's as if every snowflake has recovered from shock and found a voice.

He would know.

He would know just exactly how much it hurts to be in sympathy with humanity. And He chose it, over the alternative, not because there was no alternative. For Him, there's no "out."

For Him, there's no wanting out.

"For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities."  Hebrews 4:15