Maggie's Farm

Pre-Christmas, I always snarl about it "It won't be a "real" Christmas without the entire extended family all together giving each other presents like emerald rings and first editions and club memberships like in the "good" old days and happily excluding all the hapless spouses who are still outsiders even after 18 years penal servitude married to one of us." whine, whine

Right now I think it is less like a thunderstorm than some spectacular view, unlooked for, blinding you with its beauty and majesty. God whispering "Did I finally get your attention. I love you, rotten failure, dysfunctional jerk, Eeyorish depressive tho you are!"

Nothing like a baby to make one stand stock still, awed, the immensity of the universe next to which our self-importance pales.

I remember losing a baby at this time of year and the heartbreak of the Messiah playing everywhere "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given..." and, even tearful a new appreciation for all God gave us. The awful grace of God.

I remember delivering my healthy son at this time of year and hearing the same words from the Messiah. And again the reminder of all God gives us.

Now, if I can only remember the view occasionally whilst belatedly wrapping presents. Merry Christmas!