Monday, December 29, 2008
When Words Fail
There are times when words fail. Or better yet, I just can't find the motivation or desire to speak; to answer questions or explain myself. Sometimes words cannot make a situation better. They cannot heal. So on those days, I seek solitude. Silence. And on some days, solitude is best savored with a camera in hand. Here's what I saw through the lens today.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
My Christmas Wish
So this is Christmas. The chaos that started with department store Christmas decorations going up at Halloween has culminated in today. So it’s rainy, dreary, and seventy degrees. Not really Christmas-like—not that I’d really prefer snow. Southerner’s don’t handle snow very well. The threat of wintry precipitation might seem nostalgic for the holidays, but it guarantees a run on gas, milk, bread and those weird little chemical-treated fake logs in a paper sack.
Last night I sat and watched my ten-year-old daughter lead the church congregation in Silent Night while my six-year-old son and I sang and watched, lighted candles in hand. It was a nice service and a great way to remember that beyond several days of binge eating and present-opening, there is something much bigger than Black Frida
y’s 5:00 AM marathon shopping, post Black Friday sales shopping, and “Oh My Gosh, I forgot to get something for Dad, “ overnight shipped, online shopping. College bowl game hype (with my apologies to my friends from Auburn) and bad Christmas letters aside, there’s something much bigger than all of us, but the ultimate gift for all of us.
Perhaps it seems trite and naïve to think of “peace on earth” as a plausible Christmas wish. But watching a six-year-old holding a candle and singing a simple carol, it does seem in reach. Watching the bright eyes of children in wonder and awe on Christmas morning, peace seems near.
I think back to Franz Gruber’s Silent Night. The legendary truce of Flanders in World War I saw English, French, and German troops lay down their weapons in trenches on Christmas Eve. German troops sang Stille Nacht and British troops sang English carols as soldiers from both sides met in “no man’s land” to exchange gifts, play pick up games of soccer, and bury the dead.
We live in a country and a world divided. From the political battle lines in Washington to the real battle lines in Iraq and Afghanistan, we are at odds. So as naïve as it may sound, I do simply wish for peace—for quiet moments where humanity can stop for a few moments and find beauty in the wonder of a child.
To everyone who finds your way to these words… Merry Christmas.
Last night I sat and watched my ten-year-old daughter lead the church congregation in Silent Night while my six-year-old son and I sang and watched, lighted candles in hand. It was a nice service and a great way to remember that beyond several days of binge eating and present-opening, there is something much bigger than Black Frida
y’s 5:00 AM marathon shopping, post Black Friday sales shopping, and “Oh My Gosh, I forgot to get something for Dad, “ overnight shipped, online shopping. College bowl game hype (with my apologies to my friends from Auburn) and bad Christmas letters aside, there’s something much bigger than all of us, but the ultimate gift for all of us.Perhaps it seems trite and naïve to think of “peace on earth” as a plausible Christmas wish. But watching a six-year-old holding a candle and singing a simple carol, it does seem in reach. Watching the bright eyes of children in wonder and awe on Christmas morning, peace seems near.
I think back to Franz Gruber’s Silent Night. The legendary truce of Flanders in World War I saw English, French, and German troops lay down their weapons in trenches on Christmas Eve. German troops sang Stille Nacht and British troops sang English carols as soldiers from both sides met in “no man’s land” to exchange gifts, play pick up games of soccer, and bury the dead.
We live in a country and a world divided. From the political battle lines in Washington to the real battle lines in Iraq and Afghanistan, we are at odds. So as naïve as it may sound, I do simply wish for peace—for quiet moments where humanity can stop for a few moments and find beauty in the wonder of a child.
To everyone who finds your way to these words… Merry Christmas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
