And sometimes on Tuesday when Mondays are hard and we don’t get around to it.
We just found out that some very dear friends, some of the most loving and gracious people I know, are enduring a very painful loss with their family.
The skies are dark,
sinking low, laden,
heavy with expectant rain.
And that feels right with my soul today, my heart breaking a little alongside people I love dearly. And I have a list of little things, one I made yesterday,
but today, I’m most thankful for the anticipated Christ child.
A promised light, breaking through our darkness.
Emmanuel, God with us. God, drawing near.
I wrote this just over a year ago on an old blog. A very different situation, but the same familiar sense of grief and loss.
But here are the little things for which I am thankful.
- Coffee and laughter and future plans with new friends. The joy of life with other people and new relationships.
- The final countdown: we’re under three weeks, guys!
- It’s snowing on WordPress. Every time I open my home page, tiny white dots drift from the top of the screen. If it’s going to insist on being 80 degrees outside, at least my computer understands appropriate weather patterns.
- The new Fair Trade chocolate chips at HEB. I’m determined that as far as it is within my control, I won’t support human enslavement, economically crippling working conditions, and unsustainable growing practices. And coffee and chocolate are two of the worst offenders.
I realize that it is an incredibly small (and mildly selfish) thing, but I’m grateful that I can support fair and just treatment of other human beings, and still be able to make chocolate chip cookies. (Plus, they are delicious.)
- My new Christmas album: Christmas by Low. Which Stephen Thompson of NPR’s PCHH calls “cocoa for the soul”. And it is.
- A really wonderful weekend with my parents. We ate at Pei Wei and picked up my wedding dress and did some Christmas shopping for relatives; it was really lovely.
- The lighted garland I bought on sale at Target in lieu of a Christmas tree this year.
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.