cold without Christmas

20 January 2009 § 2 Comments

i know i should be slapped for saying this, but there’s something about being at the end of our ropes that is so hopeful. Once we lose our death-grip on the last fibers, and slip off the end into oblivion, we’re Free: Someone has been there the whole time, patient, waiting to envelop us in the sweet Mama-sling of rest and humility and peace and drool.

On Friday we had a Christmas-cookie-and-Elf-movie party because it’s been too cold to not be Christmastime, but i think the discomfort goes deeper than that. Remember in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, it was always winter and never Christmas when the evil witch was queen? There’s something sinister about it, like death. Ropes get really short. Pressure, disease, crisis, hopelessness–unless we become reconciled to the idea of falling for miles and being smashed into smithereens like glass, because that idea might be the same as trust.

The moments that His strength flows make it easy. i’m not denying that there are also the dark moments of turning off the light and waking up in the cold morning and being late and forgetting something and letting someone down, and there’s the rope mocking in your face. i don’t know how to live in joy there. but i know that falling isn’t miles into a canyon of sharp boulders, it is inches into His plush embrace.

The good news is that Spring comes like clockwork, like the Earth turning, like the axis staying 23.44 degrees while we whiz off to another familiar side of our orbit!

and i kazoo’d the national anthem last week but forgot today.

10:32 pm EDIT: i actually did have the opportunity to musically serve my country today: Lindi just got an earful of kazoo over the phone.



§ 2 Responses to cold without Christmas

  • Amber says:

    kazoo’d is my new favorite verb.

    today my brother told me that he knows it’s going to be okay because it won’t be long until we’re not here anymore. That’s really debbie downer, but I LOVE his perspective.

    I love your, too.

  • Veronica. says:

    I love the metaphor.

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