Christmas is the time when we scurry home……actually or in memory.
And what is home? It’s where we come from, what we embrace or flee, what has shaped us. It can be safe, or it can be dysfunctional, but at Christmas, we’re drawn back. Why?
Is it yearning? Is it idealism? Is it instinctive, the way swallows return to Capistrano? Do we search for childhood innocence, for sweetness, for wonder? Do we find it?
I am growing to believe that what we find depends on what we’ve developed inside. It’s as deep as we are, as broad or as narrow, as hurt or as healed. Once upon a time, the tree with its bright, blinking lights was enough to soothe us. Promise was enough.
This season resurrects our lost child, and it seeks what was, but just as likely wasn’t. It seeks solace. It seeks affirmation. It seeks to be soothed. We want so to believe that promises do come true, that we are o.k., that we are worthy enough to receive love’s bright light.
May all your Christmases be white.
Lovely, Karleen. 🙂
as children we had Jesus in his manger with loving parents, animals and angels around him (all things children love), along with bright lights on soft fir trees with bright beautiful ornaments . . . we had our innocence, our hope for tomorrow and the love (or pretended love of our parents), children are so good at creating their own happiness . . . I think that is what we “flee to” in our hearts, what we knew (or dreamed) to be “home”, and I think we still do . . . it gives us hope for tomorrow which we all so desperately need, for without it we cannot survive . . . the above piece written by Karleen is all so right !!! thanks my dear, and of course we all are worthy, whether we believe it or not . . .