Pre-Dawn Christmas

I think I finally admitted it to myself last night, sitting on the couch looking at the lights of the Christmas tree glowing in the dark. This year has had lots of disappointments. I am not so excited about things. Hard to leave Ethiopia, maybe I expected I would be more settled in San Jose by now- I would have hoped I would have found a community and friends because I feel like I need that, I feel sort of trapped living at home without other good options, and I have watched the situation in Awanno deteriorate so much in a year. God answers my prayers in a sustaining way- getting me through a few more days, but that is all I can see and the future is really sort of depressing. So that's the end of empty little me, my little life not going the exciting way I would have chosen.

Lying in bed in the glow of Christmas morning, I am singing to myself... Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, with glowing hearts by his cradle we stand... that is true light, true worship and fulfillment. Light and solid hope into the dissonance of my tense world that doesn't make sense. Lord, let your light, light of Your face, shine on us- that we may be saved, have life, and find our way in the darkest night.

Once again, I find Him bigger than my problems and better than my plans. When Zacharias prophesied Jesus' birth, he said "the Sunrise from on high will visit us." He will shine in my darkness and a thousand other darknesses around the globe.

And now, the sun is up, it is Christmas.

Heaven

My new idea is that heaven will feel like Africa in alot of ways. Seems like it will feel wide and free with hills that roll on and on into deep amazing valleys like the Rift, and horizons on every side that stretch your heart to look at. Every sunrise and sunset lights the green up with gold and pink. I think about the Africa Laura, and I think of being much less inhibited, laughing more at little things, and watching big smiles with amazingly beautiful teeth. Every walk home from the market on Friday afternoon involved painted skies, hilled landscapes and huge knarley trees with rambling roots- it all stirred a sense of eternity inside of me.

It is as if Infancy were the Whole of Incarnation

One time of the year
the new-born child
is everywhere,
planted in madonnas' arms
hay mows, stables
in palaces or farms,
or quaintly, under snowed gables,
gothic angular or baroque plump,
naked or elaborately swathed,
encircled by Della Robia wreaths,
garnished with whimsical
partridges and pears,
drummers and drums,
lit by oversize stars,
partnered with lambs,
peace doves, sugar plums,
bells, plastic camels in sets of three
as if these were what we need
for eternity.

But Jesus the Man is not to be seen.
We are too wary, these days,
of beards and sandalled feet.

Yet if we celebrate, let it be
that he
has invaded our lives with purpose,
striding over our picturesque traditions,
our shallow sentiment,
overturning our cash registers,
wielding his peace like a sword,
rescuing us into reality
demanding much more
than the milk and the softness
and the mothers warmth
of the baby in the storefront creche,
(only the Man would ask
all, of each of us)
reaching out
always, urgently, with strong
effective love
(only the Man would give
his life and live
again for love of us).

Oh come, let us adore him-
Christ--the Lord.

-Luci Shaw