Hello everyone. I hope that you are ok. This is a bit of a rushed post because we are at church twice today and "on the door" at the Carol Service.
I am trying very hard to "let go of Christmas" a bit this year. Not actual Christmas-Christmas, you understand, but the need for it all to be perfect - house/food/life, etc. We know it won't be perfect in Wrinkly House. We are living in the middle of cladding works, and the car park is being evacuated. I was busy apologising and explaining all this to FOW2, and she stopped me and said. "To be honest, Mum - we are just looking forward to hanging out together and eating as many Pringles as possible." (Pringles are very rarely permitted outside of Christmas.)
And that, my friends, is my message to myself this year. God has taken care of the important stuff, and all the rest is just marketing. God willing, we will have nice food and drink and a good laugh, and we are more than grateful for friends, family and a roof over our heads. (even if it is not exactly aesthetically pleasing looking out of the window at the scaffolding.
So, I thought I would finish with a story my dad used to tell me about the Nativity. My dad was a great storyteller. When my kids went to church camp, he would write to them both, and all the other children would be queuing up to read his very funny letters. I don't know if he made this up. I think that I have certainly told it here before (and also on the writers' blog this month. What can I say - it has been really busy.)
It's about lots of things. But mainly it's about not missing it. The real stuff, that is, in the middle of everything else that calls us and puts demands on us.
I hope that you have a great Christmas, however it works for you. A friend this morning said that they were looking forward to Prosecco and toast in bed, and that was it. (I'm too messy to make that work, I think.)
A moth and a mouse were the best of friends. They would go everywhere together. They would spend Saturdays shopping, drinking coffee, trying on shoes and wondering if they could get away with a sequinned kaftan. If the mouse sometimes became a bit frustrated with the moth who, with the ability to actually fly, didn't really make the most of this gift and had a tendency to doze more often than was necessary, then it didn't really matter because they were good friends and loved each other.
One evening, the friends found themselves on a flowerbed in a small garden, lying on their backs and looking up at the sky. Suddenly, they both noticed a bright star - much brighter than all the others.
"Look at that", said the mouse, "what could it be?"
It certainly was amazing, and they watched it for a good while. Eventually, the mouse said, "Let's follow it. Let's see what it is"
But the moth wasn't in the mood. "Nah! It's miles away. I'm too tired. We can watch it from here."
The mouse, however, was captivated and couldn't leave it alone.
"I'm going. I'm going to have a look. I'll see you when I get back."
And the mouse went. Wherever it had gone, it certainly was a long way away because it was gone for a very long time. The moth was beginning to get a bit worried. Eventually, though, the mouse turned up, and he had a big smiley mouse face that the moth had never seen before.
"Well, asked the moth, did you find it?"
"Oh, I did," said the mouse. "I found a stable with a baby, and shepherds worshipping and angels singing. And yet, despite everything, there was such peace there. It was amazing."
The moth was crestfallen. It decided immediately that it would go and find this marvellous thing. But, the mouse said. "I'm sorry. You are too late. It has gone. You have missed it. It may come back, though. I suppose." And the moth decided there and then, never to miss the chance to see this spectacle again.
That is why, even now, when a moth sees a light, it will fly towards it with all its might, to see if it can see the baby Jesus.
Compliments of the Season, all.
Wrinkly Martha
Comments
Post a Comment