when the words below are vulnerable...

Friday, December 23, 2011

it's in the earliest hours of the morning that i wander back down the hall.

a day full of tears and laughter and driving that had ended in a worn out mama falling asleep on the couch and finally, uncovered and shivering, i opened my eyes to look for his warmth.

crawling under the covers to search for him, i find him...

his sweet face wet with tears from memories that follow, even in his sleep.

i wake him up and pull him close and he settles against me, lost in sleep again.

it's not lost on me...

that the day with the longest night marks one week before our darkest begins;

that this morning when i woke up,

that this day i find myself in will be lighter, if just for a few moments longer.

that when we say in this season of joy, the Light has come!, 

He really has.

and it really is going to get brighter.

but what happens when you find yourself facing memories laced with the dark?

when you feel yourself displaced and surrounded but alone?

when home is gone?

and maybe, that is why the tears are flowing so easily today,

as i watch families gather

fathers and sons sit back and laugh,

mothers and daughters make last minute preparations,

siblings pushing and joking and remembering...

do you feel a little lost?

can i write here, completely open and vulnerable and broken

that i do?

that i can love,

we can love

and be loved

but we are still finding our footing.

can i share here in this open space that the moment his dad took his life

my sense of belonging was completely shattered...?

it's two days before christmas.

and i can't help but think of mary making that journey,

large and heavy.

of those moments when it first began,

the laboured breathing,

the desperate clinging,

the feeling of i can't do this anymore.

that's how this christmas feels -

each moment, each day contracts with painful contrasts 

and can december just be over because i don't know if i can do this anymore...

keep the smile on my face,

the tears inside

and the joy in the season for the sake of my little ones.

do i dare say this here?

and i think of Him.

The One, The I Am...

He entered in and took on a wrapping of dust...

He was surrounded by us, but not of us...

did He feel the heaviness too?

did He miss what was,

did He find Himself longing for the moment when everything will be made right and new?


The Name i cling to so tightly.

that He came to us to be with us,

and lyla - she sits at the kitchen table,

tears on her face

and a heart that misses what was.

and i wrap my arms around her,

pull her in close...

and in my heart i hear Him...

i am His.  

and this is what this season is about,

that He came into humanity to be a part of humanity,

so that He could stretch His arms wide,

blood pouring down

and make us His own...

to make us His.

He is here,

in these moments that hurt,

when the memories burn

and the picture perfect moments are no longer ours...

and slowly, breathing becomes a bit easier...