I have had to sit and watch the IV drop in silence, more than once in my life. Have you? I didn’t feel like a masterpiece in the middle of my pain. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was and still am, one.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? 8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! 9 If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, 10 even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” 12 even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. Psalm 139: 7-12 English Standard Version On BibleGateway.com
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Like a splinter in the foot you just can’t seem to see, is the pain within a heart filled with anxiety. No one else can see pain that you now feel. Often times you ask if it’s even truly real. Walk about your day, the prick will stab with pain. Balancing the wound becomes a dripping drain. Energy is lost, focus on protect. Friendships pays the cost, when attention you deflect. How to remove a shard that can’t be seen? First admit, discard pretending’s screen. Allow a probing look. A gentle searching poke. Trust someone who knows, this pain in not a joke. Often it may feel like a bandage ripped away. The sting, it may endure well into your day. But, pain of healing hands is worth a season’s rest. It’s a pain that’s bearable when into tears it’s pressed. Gentle words may pinch, a tweezers searching bite. And tears can wash away, splinters and their bite.
Have you heard the plastic pull as knife slides across bag of black earth? Have you felt the beginnings of warmth as matter clings to fingerprints and stains nails dark? The dirt is chill. Yet the warmth flows, packed in pots of hope. Have you listened to the rustle of paper release seeds from captivity? Smallness containing miraculous promise. Snow may linger, but add a pane of glass to a sun of spring and greenhouses blossom in earliest spring. It makes my heart ring. Simple actions reminding, surrounded by soil’s grounding scent.
It usually surprises people when I tell them, “I do not care for the Christmas season.” “Arn’t Christians supposed to love Christmas?”
I guess most of them do, but I can’t help but feel an emptiness behind the brightly covered packages and glitz this world throws around during the holiday season. Expectations are high, but things never seem to pan out the way I mean them to. So why write about this now that the Holidays are over, and becoming a memory?
Because the light of Christmas is not supposed to stay locked into a few weeks of the year. The person of Jesus Christ grew and walked away from the manger, taking his flame of light to the very valley of death.
So today I choose to remind myself that though a modern Christmas leaves me empty, and ancient Christ fills me with light.
Look beyond how culture paints things to deep roots.