my heart
the first day of winter,and my heart is cold.what of the Christ Childand the Story of old?what of the mangerwhere the Holy Babe lay,and what of the loveHe bled on that Day?yes, what of the splintersfrom His makeshift bed,and what of the thornsshoved down into His head?what of His smile, His favor resting upon me?His eyes filled with Love--His holiness, all He can seeis the Sacrifice He became;from the body of an infantto a Resurrected King.Yes, even now i choose Him--my heart and my all i bring.
domestic tranquility
kevin, jennie, julie…if you’re reading this, you are already smiling. :)
i thought of this precious term the other day, and my mind wandered back to walt’s, the obu cafeteria that is no more, and one cold, wintry day when we were all huddled for breakfast at one of those long, brown tables with the uncomfortable, attached plastic seats. andy scott was there, and one or more of us was wearing a white, long-sleeved t-shirt as an under-layer with a perfectly thumb-sized hole at the cuff. we would hold our hot beverage of choice in our cold little hands, thumbs shyly poking through their holes, and tenderly sip as steam warmed our rudolph noses. ah, domestic tranquility, we would utter. who originally coined this term, i cannot recall. but its meaning has stayed close to my heart.
isn’t it what we all long for? to be at home? to belong? to have our cold hands and feet covered, and to be nourished by not only what we need but by what we want?
perhaps i’ve been thinking of the term more than usual because we just moved. and although 208 clay is wonderful, yes, we still haven’t unpacked everything, and we still have half a storage unit yet to unload upon the already-stuffed house. we have longed for domestic tranquility, and so we have attempted to keep the living room clear of clutter—so that we at least have one room we can collapse into after we’ve braved the fierce day.
i’ve been so sad because i haven’t decorated for Christmas, and unless a miracle happens (and i suddenly have a few DAYS to work on everything), i do not plan to do so. why bring more stuff (albeit wonderful, smile-inducing stuff) into all the stuff that’s already threatening to swallow us whole? and i suppose i say i’m sad because being in a Christmas-decorated home seems the essence of domestic tranquility.
but then maybe i’m missing the whole point.
because not once do i remember ever “feeling” domestic tranquility—in college or elsewhere—while i was alone. and all we needed was a couple of chipped mugs and a few holy shirts. we were even sitting on hard, plastic seats, for heaven’s sake. but we were together. and we loved each other. and that was what made our domesticism tranquil. (well, that and the hot chocolate.) :)
so perhaps that is what i need to remember as Christmas Day becomes closer and closer; down a few hot ones with the ones i love, and soak in the warmth of peace that genuine love and happiness brings.
i’m anxiously awaiting your comments; i cannot wait to hear your thoughts on this, my loved ones. (kevin, jennie, and julie, and all other loved ones, as well.) :)
