I have had it with you.

The night.

Sometimes falling hard.
Like broken glass.
Shards cutting skin.

Anguish rising like the tide.
Overwhelming.

Ugly showing up. 
In the sometimes stark.  Reality.
The brokenness of life.
Scaring.

Fear. Ripping off masks.
Cutting to the heart.

The blackness of the sky.  On pause.

When the soul so disturbed. 
Can't catch your breath.

Never.
Never.

Will God ever say.

I have had it with you.

In our lack. 
In our real. 
In our need.

Showing up.
With the dawn.

Astonishing Love.

All I have to do is whisper

Jesus.

What does it mean?  The Word.  This name.

Sometimes expressing irreverence.
Sometimes engraved on jewelry.  On skin.
Sometimes the brunt of media humor.

But for me.  This year.
More.
Even more.

Coming from the Advent season into a new year.
Singing still.  Emmanuel.

Dragging it into the new year like a favorite worn blanket.
Familiar.  Much loved.  And calming.
Like a silent night.

Christmas around the table not as full as in years past.  And yet.
For our family.  Goodness.  Just in being together.
The demands of the past year pulling hard on preparedness.

And my heart full.
For what is.

Because life is a struggle.  A battleground.

And though I have loved for many years.  This Jesus.

I feel at times much like a prodigal son.
And the Father running toward me.
In my pain, my fear, my scattered. 
Reminding me. 

Again and again.

Grace.

And all that is required of me.
To love back.

This indescribable, unfathomable love.
I too easily forget.

The pain helping me to see.

Emmanuel.

All year.
In the depths of my being.

And all I have to do is whisper.

Jesus.

 

 

How to fly?

Angels fly because they take themselves lightly.
Writes G K Chesterton.

And here.
In the stunning beauty of a new year.

Amid festivities and parties and proposals and FB postings.
The glamour.  The joy.  The beauty dazzling.
Spirits soar.  Smiles wide.  Faces happy.
All dressed up.

But.
Underneath.
All the smiles.

For all.
A tender fear forking through the merry.
Thinking things would be different.

Perhaps not measuring up.
Ourselves, others, events, circumstances.

And why ring in a new year that might just disappoint.
Even for the merry.  For the ones with stars in their eyes.  This year.

Life falling hard.
A new calendar untouched. 
The unknown.

But that's the beauty.
That's the answer. 
That's the promise.

No matter what.  Emmanuel.  All year.

God with us.
The Beauty.  The Answer.  The Promise.

And so.
We celebrate new year.

The not taking ourselves and our lives so seriously.

The letting go.
Because we can.

God doing the serious stuff.
In a manger.  On a cross.

And us.

Ringing in a new year.  Flying above the fear.
Not to take ourselves so seriously.

Only God.