Ice Over The River

Fifth Day in the Octave of Christmas

May the God of peace make you perfect and holy; and may you all be kept safe and blameless, spirit, soul and body, for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.      

                                                                                                            

                                                                                                               1 Thessalonians 5:23   



        

The fire warms us in the evening of a winter’s cold.  Sitting next to its’ crackle, quieting down to random thoughts. What faces of Christ did I see today?  The solitary offices of labor in the blue, first-light of dawn, in the faces of those in pain beneath my hands at work,  in children, hungry, who need to be fed, that's easy enough, but the more hidden faces of Him I recognized too late: as I passed by the car, angry at the slow, unsure driving, my child trying my patience and raising my voice too loudly, the face of Christ in the clerk I did not notice fully, the fleeting and spontaneous responses that could have been kind and charitable instead of not at all, in the difficult I haven’t spoken to in a long while. The list could go on until I am sitting by a cold grate, but I must, in my own shortcomings, see Him reaching out, calling the lost with a voice so tender and full of grace. I must continue, in these shifting shadows and light, keeping vigil, praying, even poorly, for transformations in Him, and praying to pray without ceasing.

O Lord, how your light is diminishing us eternally; 

healing us
in our fallen ice 

over the river of You,
flowing wildly, 

clapping beneath.