Do you look for something in this note that is sharp and edgy, something that might make you sigh? Won’t find it. Or do you read it because that’s what you do when you get mail that actu-ally addresses you and that doesn’t ask for donations?
The heart of the matter is that as you read this Christmas, 2011 note we are together. (Lots of years with some of you.) Ever wonder where all those years go? I don’t know the answer, but the facts are indisputable-those years are gone.
Are they really gone? Can’t they sneak up on us in a room when we are unaware? Bring forth laughter or tears? I often left doors to closets open in an apartment I shared before my marriage. It drove my roommate crazy. I still find myself doing it. I smile when I see them open. My friend is with me. Simple thing; great pleasure. Years pass and someone out of the blue comes to mind. OK, you like purple, out of the purple, then. Maybe a song, a walk on the beach, a sunset does it. Sometimes, providence brings that person back into your life in flesh. Sometimes, we can’t bring them back except in dreams and private thoughts. Paradoxical, huh?
What I am trying to share comes from a homily recently heard. (Sometimes, I work to forget these, but this one, this one, hit home.)
All the years are gone. Many we loved are gone. Those years, those lives brought LIFE. That was the message in the homily: Bring life.
We all make lists especially at this time of year. Life is not lists. Lists don’t bring life. Of course, it’s people who do. Those very people we love and the very people who challenge us to expand that love. In fact I might be your hair shirt. Now that’s something to think about. How about this one: In my relationships do I bring life or diminish it? If it is our responsibility to bring life, isn’t that a task worth thinking about this season?
It is a fact for me that those reading this greeting have brought life to me. Have made me who I am, made me look at things in other ways, challenged me, made me realize how human I really am. Walked in the fields of life with me and broke bread, knowing and accepting parts of me I am not really happy to say out loud. Thank you.
We’ve read about tapestries and weaving as arts that capture time. We don’t capture time. (I’ve a box filled with photos that faded.) We have glimpses of humanity, deep and personal, unsettling and life changing in time. The facts are: We are pulled into life, slide or are lifted from the womb. We all cried and took a breath. That’s life, not time.
Who has a handle on where the time goes? Maybe some moment this season you could BE QUIET. Listen to your own breath. It is you alive. I think it’s very hard to do. It is costly when we are QUIET because it can ROAR, make us want to cover our ears and close our heart. How-ever, it SINGS, too, and singing and laughter expand the heart. (Maybe keep the cardiologist away.)
Go and shop with this in mind: You bring life. I know this in my feet, up to my heart, to the top of my head. I am your witness. (I would sing that to you, but you would be in great distress.) Double thanks. Merry Christmas, 2011.