You looked with love upon me

and deep within, your eyes imprinted grace;

this mercy set me free,

held in your love’s embrace,

to lift my eyes adoring to your face.

-St. John of the Cross

Memory

We often think of the brain as a warehouse for memory. We imagine that information comes in through our senses, is cataloged, and shelved in the deep recesses of our hippocampus. At some time later, perhaps, the memory may be retrieved and put to use.

But it is more akin to a symphony. It is made not of drab packages containing recollections, but a neuronal harmony recreating the score that we call memory.

Radiance Resurrected

I watch the sun ascend
once again illuminating
creation’s vast expanse.
Night’s black shroud
slowly stripped away
revealing a coat of many colors.
Beauty hidden, but not forgotten.

The True Light
shrouded in death
descended into darkness
but I watch the Son ascend
shedding death’s dark cloak.
Radiance resurrected.

Night comes
but never without
the promise of morning.

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

-John 1:4-5

Kite Flying

Listen, O daughter, give attention and incline your ear: forget your people and your father’s house; then the King will desire your beauty. – Psalm 45:10-11

Parenting teenagers has a lot in common with flying kites. If you’ve ever flown a kite, you know that there is a specific way to make it soar. On the one hand, you cannot leave it sitting on a shelf, protected and never used. That’s not what it were made for; it was made for flight.

On the other hand, stepping into the wind and tossing a kite up, willy-nilly, will ultimately lead nowhere. The kite may tumble in the breeze for a few moments, but ultimately it will crash.

In order for a kite to work properly, it needs to be set aloft in the wind, but tethered with a string to the ground. The only way a kite will truly function as a kite, the only way it can beautifully fly and dip and swoop is when it is placed under some restraint. Total restraint will not do, neither total freedom; just the right amount of tension creates something of singular beauty.

I recently told my daughter, “Your job is to continue to stretch yourself into the wind and discover how to fly. Our job, as your parents, is to discover just the right amount of tension to put on the string to best aid your flight (and keep you out of the powerlines). When it gets really windy, our team effort at being anchor and kite can become treacherous. A significant part of me wants to reel in the line and pull you out of the storms of life, but that isn’t what you were made for. You were made to fly, and Mom and I are doing our best to help you become the best flyer you can be so that when we eventually must let go of the string, you will be able to fly just fine on your own.”

Raising Immanuel

I’m just a lowly carpenter,
building things of wood;
I put my heart and soul in this,
my buildings firm and good.

I’ve asked a girl to be my wife,
young Mary, sweet and kind;
a flower so pure and lovely,
I was blessed to find.

With longing anticipation,
I’ll await our wedding day;
I’ll protect the virtue of this girl
and keep my desire at bay.

The whisperings I hear in town
say “Mary is with child.”
“It can’t be true” I tell myself
my fears are running wild.

O God, I’m hurt and weeping
this pain, I cannot bear;
she dashed my heart upon the rocks
leaving fragments of despair.

Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace
I cry to you for aid;
the law says I should stone her
but I can’t. I am afraid.

I will divorce her quietly
the most mercy I can show;
A woman deserving death
will just be left alone.

I’ll buckle down, back to work
forget about our plans;
swinging a hammer is what I know,
not being a married man.

Tonight I dreamed a wondrous dream,
God’s angel spoke to me;
rekindling my cooling fire,
he said “let the marriage be.”

“Don’t be afraid, strong Joseph
to take Mary as your wife;
the life that grows inside her
is the Messiah’s life.”

I awoke excited and with dread
the Christ will be my son;
what can this lowly carpenter
teach the Maker of the Sun?

I’ll take the girl as my wife
we’ll raise Immanuel;
“God with us” will live with us
the Savior come to dwell.

-December 2016