o come, o come emmanuel

...Bring your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven’s silence
Welcome to our world
Welcome to our world

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around you
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God

Welcome to our world

- Chris Rice

may we welcome the Christ in all we encounter.
be well. go under the grace.



perhaps i need a new wardrobe

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.
Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter,
I'm the Man In Black.



i got an email from a person i went to college with wondering who i was because i had created a link to his page from this one. this world of "blogging" is so interesting. i have been reading so many different pages from people that i've known in the past, and even some strangers. it is interesting how you can feel close to a person through their words, through their questions that are also your own. i think it can be very beneficial to know that you're not alone on the journey. however it also makes it so easy to have artificial relationships. most of the people that i've been "in touch" with through weblogs have no idea that i've been reading their words, and relating to their writing. it's a way of staying connected without having to truly connect. i've noticed this pattern often and it is something that needs to be broken.

one foot in front of the other...


dirty people

I want a Jesus who invites dirty people to his Father's table because his Father is deeply in love with them - John Frye at http://jesustheradicalpastor.blogspot.com/

i have been thinking lately about the openness that some have in their communities - with tangible, outward expressions as simple as leaving their doors unlocked so that all are welcome at any time. my first reaction to this revelation is "how unsafe. aren't they afraid of robbery or violence?" as a woman living alone, this idea, although in theory and symbolism very beautiful, is very frightening to me. when i am already uncomfortable at times when i'm all locked and cozy inside, how would i be able to handle the knowledge that someone could walk in at any time?

i was thinking of the above quote and wondering what my life could look like if i were to truly open up my life to those around me, to open my home because i was deeply in love. part of me naively wonders, would they come back and take what i have - television, computer, etc? and what if they did? what would i have lost? why do i have those things anyway? are they my possessions or am i theirs? what are they adding to my life? to my faith? to my journey? what if i lived in simplicity as i say i would like to?

so many questions...



when i read posts like this http://blog.case.edu/mxs24/2005/12/06/the_world_reaction_to_atrocities i feel called to action. however, when i search myself to find what action that might be, i feel helpless. what could I possibly do to make a difference in this situation and so many others? i have been asking this question for years now...


A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?
Kahlil Gibran

to all of my far away friends...know that you are near.


i first saw this sculpture at Musee Rodin in Paris five years ago. i don't know what it is about the art form of sculpture that resonates within me but i am deeply moved. there is so much that this one beautiful work of art can communicate - the moment before a relationship begins, the healing touch of a friend, allowing vulnerability, a graceful dance and on and on and on.

i hope it moves you.

Le Cathedrale, Rodin Posted by Picasa


quiet of winter

i battle the coming of winter. i don't like being cold. i have to be careful or i will find myself face down, kicking and screaming in a full blown internal tantrum regarding the bitterness and barrenness outside. and i am ashamed. so, i take a deep breath and try to let the quiet in. that is one thing that no other season can provide - the silence of winter. spring is full of the eruption of leaves and flowers and the birth of so many things after the long death. summer nights give us the constant hum of crickets. autumn comes with the violence of forests on fire with color and the wind rustling through the leaves that are beginning to fall. but winter... the snow falls over the naked earth, the animals are all sleeping, night falls fast. it reminds me to slow down, to rest, to curl up under the blanket of snow and the hours of darkness, to retreat deep into the earth for renewal, for the spring that will come. the process is beautiful - both for the earth and for me. if only i could remember.