don't thank me

My linguist brain struggles with the fact that the English word 'thank' cannot stand alone. You can't just thank. You have to thank someone.

Linguistics aside, everyone says being thankful is good for your mental health. And how can you be thankful unless you have someone to be thankful to?

So goodbye self-sufficiency. Hello believing in something outside of myself.

Today's spiritual reflection was brought to you courtesy of the Christmas blues and an overdose of chocolate-covered almonds.

take this opportunity to thank someone, anyone, for

The Arctic snow that makes noise when I walk on it and the friends I don't call but who answer when I do and the candles I light in the evening and the thriller I read in bed when I can't sleep and the cider I drink when I can't afford wine and the wheat warmer and the mornings I get to sleep in and the busy days in the shop when it's easy to smile again and the volleyball.

The dreams of exploring new shores and the people who really see me and the wool skirt that flatters my legs and my niece who educates me on Justin Bieber and my nephew who draws me pictures of horses and my other nephew who quotes interesting trivia and the fact that I never have money yet never lack any good thing and my mother who loves me and my work for a good cause and the sea outside my window and the DVDs I watch and the birds that remind me of God and the languages and the music in my body and soul and the hope that I glimpse occasionally.

And the fact that I am saved by grace.

at the gates of Heaven

I went there. To the place, an insignificant parking lot outside a community hall in a suburb, where God came down to get you. Where your soul left the earth.

What an unthinkable, unfathomable thing that happened here. There should be some divine brightness over the place, a holy atmosphere, at least a sign with a black cross on it. But. Nothing to indicate this ever happened. A winter evening, snow and Christmas decorations, commuters returning home for dinner and helping kids with homework and drowsing in front of the telly. I cried for a while and then left.

Life goes on. What a comfort and what a cruelty.

but a walking shadow

Fairy lights. Candlelight. Laptop screen light. Street light reflected on snow.

The light inside me is burning low.

Spent some time with my family. In the middle of life. A children's dance show, my beautiful niece did herself justice. Lots of proud fathers and beaming mothers and bored siblings in the audience. I pretended to be a part of it. I would have laughed at the dancers who were more preoccupied with twirling their pretty skirts than focusing on their dance number. But the laughter couldn't find its way to me. I could see and hear love in the voices of my family. But I could neither feel nor taste it, it stopped somewhere short. My darkness is impenetrable.

But this is just one day of sorrow. Tomorrow there will be a slight shift towards the future. A brief nuance of a brighter light.

what world is this? what kingdom?

Is it really real? That you are laid in a hole deep down in frozen ground, covered with dirt and flowers and a layer of snow, and darkness...

That you just ceased to breathe and suddenly found yourself in another place, warm and joyful, and face to face with those you said farewell to years and years ago?

I have never thought about this before.