Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Christmas Season has the capability to stir up all sorts of memories and feelings -- some pleasant and some not-so-pleasant. In speaking with various clergy colleagues over the past couple of weeks, it seems that the combination of this terrible economy, the stress of the holidays, and plain old grief has coalesced into a big mess in many families and congregations. I've seen a couple of examples at Big Church. I know GGF has seen her share. My oldest son is really anxious and whiny about Christmas this year -- the anticipation is almost beyond the point where he can enjoy it.
Our Director of Christian Education began our staff meeting yesterday by reading us a portion of that lovely Peter Marshall sermon titled "Let's Keep Christmas". The sermon concludes with these words:
nor 'observe' Christmas.
We will 'keep' Christmas -- keep it as it is . . .
in all loveliness of its ancient traditions.
May we keep it in our hearts,
that we may be kept in its hope."
I hope that the next week is particularly kind to all my friends who are working to make the church a safe and welcoming space during this holiday. I hope that those traveling to be with friends and family are not automatically placed in whatever role their presence assigns them within their family system.
Brett is at the pediatrician with Baby D for his 12-month checkup. I will report later on the massive baby growth. Right now I am happy to be in my warm house, feeling slightly less puny than I did yesterday. I am going to try and blog more often in the new year. Adding a third child to my household has made things a wee more complicated!
Thanks to those who continue to blog my regularly. I do read and keep up with all of your activities.
hugs,
Thanks for your prayer for all of us who are dealing with our position in the family. Helping my mom through her recovery from a broken hip has brought all that stuff front & center for me again.
Wait a minute. Is that a curse?
Not this week, thank God.
Last week at Brood of Vipers Presbyterian Church, yes. Four longtime congregants established the punitive practice of quitting the church for Advent. Another parishioner implied that I would steal the offerings if they were left on the chancel after the prayer of dedication. A dear old man died, and we got his birthdate wrong in the memorial service bulletin.
This week, despite having held my mesmerizing husband's hand for dear life last week, I have miraculously not caught his cold. A man agreed to head-usher for B of V Church, and his wife offered to be the lead teacher of next week's concluding session of our Advent learning series. People left gifts on my desk.
In an hour, we'll have Advent Vespers, with all those gorgeous, minor-keyed hymns of longing.
At the end of it, I'll offer this benediction (not of my own composing):
Out of silence, praise lifts its song.
Out of darkness, light bursts forth.
Out of waiting, the answer comes.
Go in faith that God brings
what we most deeply desire.
Get well soon, Beso' my heart.
Take care of yourself, or the season will smack you down. You know it will!