7. Reflect: A poem for Friday

1. (transient verb) To give back or mirror. 2. (Intransient verb) To give something back as light. 3(Intransient verb). Carefully considered thoughts.

Even though it was not personal to me, the Connecticut shootings last Friday was something I will continue thinking about for a long time. On the day of the shootings my family went to hear my husband perform in the Nutcracker. The artistic director gave a very tactful address towards the tragedy and reminded of the importance of art and beauty. Coincidentally (I think?) several times in the blocking of the first scene there were exactly 27 people on stage. Then all left the stage, going to bed, and all that was left was darkness and a giant twinkling Christmas tree. For me it was a reminder of lives lost. With deepest sympathy, here is my reflection in poem and photo essay from the day.

A Poem for Friday

Often, in December, the wind is piercing cold;

leaves linger and fall,

and even the mocking bird sits-too chilled to move,

and dead butterflies (still brilliant)

collect on the ground.

The ends of our eyes stick together

and sound is drowned.
A void

is blowing us down.

Light shines through

the holes.

Angels, lay unnoticed,

just beyond view.

We close our eyes

(Praying: mercy; raindrops), 

and hold hands.

Move forward

together.

The seed pod is waiting. 

To spread exuberance,

and, miraculously,

flowers still bloom

in December. 

I hold the Thanksgiving wishbone

in my hand 

and wonder:

What comes next year?

A snowflake touches the ground 

with it's toe.

We embrace 

a dream,

the morning.

The laughter of children

echoes

in the air.

----------------------------

Twenty eight people were killed on December 14th by guns. Disgusting. There are countless responsible gun owners in this country, but that does not discount the facts that additionally "every year there are 30,000 gun deaths in the United States and 300,000 gun related assalts."  I firmly believe that we are long overdue for some much different gun regulations in this country. And while I don't know all of the answers to this complex problem, I feel that more stringent gun regulations (not elimination) will be an important step in prevention. Period.

I've been asking what I can do as an individual. I had already been in progress of beginning to sell photo cards on Etsy and through the Oklahoma Food Coop and have decided that some of this collection of images will be amongst my first set to sell and that 15% of my proceeds will go towards organizations that help prevent gun violence and organizations that promote juvenille access to mental health. I am aiming to have these for sale by the end of this week. (Also I'm taking suggestions on organizations to donate to meeting either of these criteria as I am still researching that).

6. Choir

1. (Noun). An ensemble that makes music together.
2. (Noun). A division of angels

See that red angel right in the middle? Her drum was broken so the boys informed me that they had given her a new role as conductor of the orchestra. I love her. In her brokenness, in her newly assigned purpose. I love that she is still helping others make music even though she no longer has a song. She is creating from her silence. This sweet little vingette reminds me of what it's like for all of us to be a part of the choir.

The kids have a song they learned that goes "each of God's children has a role in God's choir, some sing low and some sing high-er." We are here in all of our imperfections trying collectively to make some joyful noise. And somehow through that act of opening our mouths, of being present we are elevated to the level of angels.

5. Ridden

1. Noun. (To be burdened and overwhelmed with. 
2. Verb. (To sit on and control).

(Yes, I know, he is riding a rhinocerous, but in my world anything is possible. If the nativity had taken place in Africa or Oklahoma, I am certain this would have been the animal of choice).

Thinking lots about Mary and what must have been a rather rough journey on the donkey and all the things that must have been weighing on her mind.  Thinking about whether it would have been unexpected or ordinary for an overly pregnant woman in Palestine to travel long distances by donkey. I can't help but think of her loneliness and that she was probably all alone having an unassisted birth in a smelly place.

For most of us our journeys also are going to have lots of bumps along the way, but sometimes we will have our greatest victories in our most humble situations.  And when we look for them we will have unanticipated metaphorical vehicles to carry us safely from place A to place B.

It appears that Mary is the one to immulate in this story, bearing light and joy to the world ridding things out on top, having faith that someone else knows the path and confidence despite the unknown. But sometimes I think we actually allow ourselves to become the beast: carrying the weight of so many things that weigh us (collectively) down: sorrow, debt, illness, worry, uncertainty, passed opportunities. At first this seems troubling, but I think God also calls us to be co-bearers of the pain of the world, to submit like animals as he instructs in Matthew 11:29-30 "take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." 

This season, may you find the vehicles to carry you across whatever you are facing and both bear and share the yoke of love in all it's joys and sorrows.
 

4: Belief

(Noun). Confidence in something unprovable.
(Noun). The act or habit of putting trust in another. 


Several years ago we got stuck in a giant blizzard when coming home from Branson, Missouri. We drove until we could drive no further because we literally could not see three feet in front of the car. We were fortunate to find a motel about two hours from home. Interestingly, thanks to some vending machines and grandma's bottomless purse, Santa and his reindeer were still able to know that two little boys were there anticipating Christmas and came and visited outside our window. Really magical.

Sometimes finding love, family, and faith is actually the process of forming habits of seeking and seeing. The more we expect to find them, the easier it is to believe that those things are really the force that guides us and that they will endure.

I'm thankful for those who remember to show me the magic and that I do not always have to know how it happens.

3: Notice

 

1. (Noun) The act of observing or perceiving what is going on all around.
2. (Noun) Respectful or courteous attention.

One of the most beautiful things about Calyn's personality is that she sees details and notices everything and everyone around her. She can find even a glimmer of sparkle and detect a glimpse of sadness. She finds so many things that everyone else overlooks everyday. She takes in the high and the low and whatever she discovers she gently touches.

We are hoping our Christmas tree will survive her inquiries!

May you notice blessings and people this holiday season that you would normally overlook and welcome them with reverence.