Christmas poetry

Hi everyone--I've been on vacation, but I did want to put up this post during the season.  I hope you all have a great Christmas and a wonderful holiday!

Joseph’s Troubled Night

Luke 2:7

I love her so much.

What is that to them, now?

Look at her, so absorbed in that baby.

How is it that this has happened to me?

I always thought that I would live life alone, and I was content with that.  I liked being alone.

My thoughts were my own;

My life was mine to rule.

I answered to no one.

Yes, it did get a little lonely from time to time,

But even that was nice, in a way.

I could revel in the solitude, the silence,

And the sense of pervasive stillness that filled my life.

And if I did ever feel the need for companionship,

There were always my brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins...

Every one of them with a family of their own—

Loud, raucous, stridently breaking up the early morning stillness

With their bickering, their banter, their hilarity.

I would find myself heading for home after a very short time,

Content once more with my solitary state.

And then I saw her.

She had always been in the periphery of my vision,

So to speak,

A quiet little thing—

Quiet, but not shy.

She seemed to be all eyes,

So much so that the other men left her to her own devices.

There was something almost unnatural about her,

About the way that she just—

Looked,

As if she were keeping the events around her

In some sort of ledger inside herself.

To the average man, this was not a woman to be favored.

Too much looking and too little talking

Was disconcerting to them.

But me...

I loved her the more for her silence.

She did not prattle on about inconsequential affairs,

But when she did speak, her words spoke volumes.  I

Worked up my courage and asked for her hand.

Our courtship was not your normal one.

Yes, we did talk of our life together,

As much as was necessary.

But that was not our main focus.

No, we loved to speak of He who is to come, Messiah—

Of the prophecies in all their confusion.

It was our favorite game.

How would he appear?

Would he be triumphant king or suffering servant?

Or could these conflicting descriptions

Somehow all apply to the same person?

How could that be?

Today, we have our answer,

For this servant king is suckling on Mary’s breast.

Fully human, he cries when he is hungry, wet or cold.

His cries reach into my innermost being.

I never realized how much I could love someone who is not my own.

But he is not just fully human.

The angels, the shepherds,

The sky with its enormous star

All have revealed him to be Messiah.

Messiah—my son.

It is true,

And yet it doesn’t fit well on a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths.

How strange—living, he lies wrapped as one who is dead.

Yes, I know it’s necessary to keep him straight and strong,

But it still troubles my heart.

I don’t want to think of my son,

My beloved,

And death.

My son…

My child, what will our future be?

Should I announce you as my son?

But you are not my son.

Should I put myself in danger of being called a naïve fool or worse by proclaiming the truth—

You are Messiah, sent by God?

What will Mary do?

I only have to look at your mother to know that she is not concerned about any of this.

Not in the slightest.

What secrets is she keeping?

I feel that they are the first of many,

And I know that she will keep them until the end of time.

Susana

January 27
   I know it's the right thing to do.  I don't have a job; don't have money, don't have education; don't have oh so many things.  What I do have is a world of love for this little girl--for you, Sweetheart.  I don't get to give you a name--that is going to be your mommy's job--but just between you and me, I already have.  Your name is Susanna.  Even if nobody else in the world ever hears it, I want you to know.  Susanna, I hope you know how much I love you.  I only get these few minutes to talk to you and hold you and give you a lifetime worth of love, and I know that's not enough, but I hope you somehow understand that it's because I love you that I'm giving you up.  If I were selfish, I'd keep you with me and make you suffer through my mistakes.  But I'm not going to be selfish. I love you too much for that.  So just know, my precious Susanna, that my heart is always going to be broken because I want you to be strong.
                                                         Love,
                                                                Mommy

February 14
Can it really be that over a year has passed?  I thought about you all day today.  I hope that somehow you know that you have inspired me.  Because of you, I've gone back to school.  I'm going to be a teacher, Susanna.  I'm going to teach elementary school, I think.  I have a long way to go, but I'm hoping that I treat every student--boy or girl--as if it was you.  I think about you every day.  I wonder about your hair, your eyes, your family...did you get my curly hair or your daddy's straight hair?  Did your eyes stay blue like his, or did they turn green like mine--or even maybe brown like my father's?  Do you have brothers and sisters?  Do they hold you when you cry?  Do you ever miss me?  I hope not, Susanna.  I don't want to be the reason you feel bad.  I love you so much.  I hope somehow you know that.
                                                                    Love,
                                                                           Mommy
December 25
Susanna, I know that you're almost 10.  My goodness, how time flies!  Did you have a nice Christmas?  I stayed with your grandmother.  This is her first Christmas without your Grandpa.  Oh Susanna, I wish you could have known him.  He was a great man.  I will always remember him carrying me piggyback on his neck.  I felt so tall--like I could almost touch the sky!  He made me feel that way, anyway, Dear.  He was a good, good man and I really miss him.  He died of a heart attack, but before he died, we had time to talk.  He knew about you, Little One.  I didn't keep you a secret.  Both he and your grandmother knew that I was pregnant.  We all prayed and talked it through together.  Susanna, did I ever tell you that I wasn't a teenager?  I was an adult--20 years old.  Your daddy and I were in love and planning to get married, and we chose not to wait.  We chose together.  When I got pregnant, though, he got scared and left.  He knew that I wouldn't dream of abortion, and he didn't want to raise a child.  Not that I would have asked him.  I knew we weren't ready.  But this introduction to responsibility scared him and he left.  Grandma and Grandpa didn't pressure me in any way.  We prayed together and decided.  It was an easy decision for me--I've already told you that I wanted you to have the best home and the brightest future possible, and I knew that couldn't happen with me.  I think it was really hard for Grandma, though.  I heard her crying in her room, but she never tried to talk me out of it.  I'm thankful for that.  Before he died, your Grandpa told me that he knew I did the right thing.  He said that if I ever got to know you, though, he wanted me to tell you that he loves you.  He's always prayed for you--his granddaughter.

My little girl--I know I shouldn't say "mine", but I still feel you in my heart, just like I told you I would.  That's why I've written this journal.  Just in case, some strange way, we should ever find each other, I want you to know that I never, not even for one day, stopped thinking about you.

                                                                   Merry Christmas, my little angel,
                                                                                Your mommy, who loves you

July 28,
Susanna, school is starting up again soon.  I know that you will be a freshman this year.  Are you excited?  I wonder if you'll go out for sports, or maybe play in the band like I did.  Do you have a gift?  Mine was always music.  Even when life was hard, music always lifted me up.  Coming home, I always had on my I-pod.  Sometimes I would hear people laughing and realize that I'd been singing along again.

I've been teaching for quite a few years now.  Fifth grade, mostly.  I see so many little girls, and I wonder if that's how you look-or looked, you know what I mean.  Blonde and pretty, brown hair in pony tails, chubby redheads--all of them are you.  Not knowing what you look like, I know that any one of them could have been you.  It helps me remember to treat them all with love and compassion.  What if that little girl that I snickered about turned out to be my own daughter?  So even now I look for you in every face and treat every child (even the boys) as if they were my own.  Just another way you make me a better person, Susanna.
                                                                 Love,
                                                                          Mommy

March 18,
Dear Katie,
            Thank you for giving me the chance to see you.  I was scared about the idea of looking you up, but I always felt that there was a connection.  When I turned 18, I talked to my mom, and she gave me her blessing.  I wouldn't have done this so soon if she hadn't.  I didn't want to do anything that would hurt her.  You did give birth to me, but she gave me life.  She told me a little about the situation.  She told me that you were young, unmarried, and you wanted me to have the best.  She knew you from the letters that you had written to the adoption facility, and she was impressed by the love that you had for me.  She knew that it was hard for you to give me up, but that you were determined to do what was right for me.
           When we met, you said that it was like you were looking at yourself.  I'm with you! I think that the first thing that struck me was how alike we look.  Your mom (it seems funny to call her Grandma still, but I'll get used to it) says that I look just like pictures of you when you were 18.  I brought my photo album (and my phone) and she took hers out, too, and we were all in tears--it could have been me in your book and you in my book!! Honestly, it was hard to figure out whether we laughed more or cried more.
           Katie, I was so blessed when you gave me your journals.  Eighteen years' worth--20 books!  I can't believe you thought of me every single day!  You have no idea how close you came to truths about me.  That day that you worried about whether I'd find the right boy...I had found the wrong boy and came so close to making the same mistake you made!  But I remembered the nights that I'd cried in my mom's arms--why would my parents give me up?--that I knew I couldn't risk doing that to another child.  I don't blame you, Katie.  You did do what was best.  My parents are there for me, and I've had a great childhood.  But you must know that it hurts, even when you know that your parents let you go for the best reason possible.  We talked about that a little, and we both cried a little more.  What a day of tears!!
             I'm looking forward to learning more about you.  I'm glad you understand that I can't call you Mom--that's not something I can do--but I was thinking--I learned German, and the word for mom in German is mutti.  I really think I want to call you mutti.
             So anyway, mutti :-), I'm looking forward to more time together with you.  Maybe one day you can meet my mom and dad, too.  They're great people, like I said.  But we'll play it by ear.
              I love you, Katie.  Mutti.
                                                                          Love, your daughter
                                                                                          Savannah

rePENT!!

New day, new prayer.  This time the scripture was very short--Jesus saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."

How that takes me back.  Raised in Assemblies, I heard lots of talk about repentance.  Not sure I really had much to repent of back then (I accepted the Lord at the age of five), I was terrified that I would die with sin on my soul and go straight to hell.  I had heard that if you thought bad thoughts, disobeyed your parents, cursed, or did any number of other bad things and then died without repenting, you would go straight to hell.  Therefore, I felt that I was always one small step away from hell.

How different my beliefs are today!  Jesus is my friend, my bridegroom, my covering.  God is my loving father, my comfort in times of trouble.  I understand that I am loved and that I never need fear--Jesus will always keep my free from the punishment that otherwise would have been mine.  

When thinking about the Bible reading today, short as it is, I have to say that it's always better to keep things in context.  When you read the entire section (Matthew 4), you see that this happened right after Jesus came back from the wilderness.  Soon after, he heard that John was in prison, so he went to heaven, stopping on the way so that this prophecy could be fulfilled:

The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,
And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death
Light has dawned.”^[f]

That's why he said "repent"--a new light had dawned upon those sitting in the region and shadow of death.  Doesn't that description sound like descriptions of beggars and the lame of the time?  They weren't able to leave--but now light has come into their very darkness.  This light, according to Jesus, was at hand.

And what do we have to do? Repent.  But what does that mean, exactly?  I found this explanation of the Greek.  Basically, it don't mean what we think it means.

There are two greek words used in this context:

1. Metanoeo. This is a compound word. “Meta” means change “noeo” means thinking. 

This word is derived from “nous” which means mind. So, metanoeo means to “change your mind”

2. Metamellamai. This is also a compound word. “Meta” means change
“mellamai” means emotions. It means to have a “change of emotions”.

So in the original Greek, to repent meant to change your mind and change your emotions.  That I can do.

I do believe that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.  In some mystical sense, it is, in a way, already here.  Where Christ is, to my way of thinking, Heaven is also.  And St Theresa of Avila states that Christ has no body now on earth but ours.  So when we look in our brother's eyes, yes, we can see Christ in him.  

I don't mean that we are living in a new world's heaven where the universe is somehow giving us new freedoms and new beings.  But I do believe that God has given us a special measure of grace that allows us to partake of the Son of God and his grace.  That, to me, is heaven.  

So, yes.  Repent.  Change your thinking. Change your emotions.  Embrace the day that Christ has made and fully--completely--rejoice in it!