Sweet Relief

Darling, I’d like to write you beautiful poems

after your long awaited arrival

and the desperate relief of the moment

you came slipping out like a selkie

from the waters inside

and beached yourself on my belly….

But right now I’m in such a happy bubble

that all I can think of is silly mama speak

you little pink piglet sweetie pie flower bud

baby blossom wonderful one

You are warm

You are safe

You are here

You are here

You are here

Christmas and the fragile gift of life

It’s easy at Christmas to feel as though you should write something joyful and sparkly…like a glimmering Christmas ball…round, perfect and whole. We yearn for such happiness, particularly at Christmas, when it seems possible to snatch down a little piece of a Heaven and bask in its glow in our very homes…but for how many is this image a real reflection of Christmas?

For many people, their Christmas balls have been cracked, chipped, or even shattered. Somehow the imperfections of this life, of our particular family or health situations, stand out more strongly when we compare them with the cosy images on Christmas cards. The innocence of a child, face glowing with anticipation of the ‘perfect’ happiness to be found in the toy shop window trimmed with sparkling snow, has been robbed from many of us as life’s tougher trials have set in.

For myself and many friends, one of these trials is the suffering of seeing aging parents struggling with their health. The ones who have meant our stability and safety in the world are now often clinging to life as to a very fragile gift, one we can’t guarantee won’t break. As we grow, we realize just how many things are out of our control. Like how major surgery will go for a beloved parent on Christmas Eve. And -thank goodness!-it went well, which was the best Christmas present by far this year.

In this age of instant gratification and micromanaging, Christmas is a powerful reminder that the things that matter most–life, love, family and friends–are beyond our control–in fact are complete and utter gifts. Ones we should give thanks for every day. Ones we should never take for granted. Life is vulnerable and precious, and it is made sweeter by those who are willing to experience it with us, suffering and all.

One of them is a baby, one who chose to leave the perfect safely and joy of Heaven to lay down on straw with us, to experience cold, hunger, loneliness and fear with us. The “I am Who am” became the “I am Who am with you.” Emmanuel. God with us, every step of the way.

Comforted by this divine tenderness, let’s stir up our hearts to look forward to the new year with trust and joy, because despite all our struggles, we are always loved, and never really alone. These are my thoughts as I anticipate meeting my new baby daughter next week, 3 weeks early because my pregnancy liver condition means that sooner is safer. Little one, you are a precious, fragile gift, and I can’t wait to hold you with great joy!

Merry Christmas, everyone, and peace be with you and yours in 2018.

The snow lies still

The snow lies still upon the rooftops.

From a few houses

smoke rises in a misty haze

and the streetlights blaze

like midnight suns.

All is silent

except the steady breathing of my toddler

whom I’m rocking back to sleep.

In the upper bedroom

across the street

insomnia reigns

and the blue lights of the television

flash out a noiseless dance.

But the snow lies still upon the rooftops

and silence greets my sleepy glance outside.

Little Astronaut

Tiny traveller

from the realm of inner space,

you float suspended

in dark warm liquid

upside down

untouched by gravity

tethered by a lifeline

to the mothership.

Outside, tiny blue rivers

run in veins over the rolling horizon.

Your world curves around you

like a constant embrace,

the pulse of your universe

beats reassuringly in your ears.

When you are launched into the outer world

in an epic one-foot journey–

“One small step for mankind”–

you enter a new solar system

where bright light abounds,

but the starlight from your former home

forever twinkles in your eyes.

Tiny traveller,

welcome to the world!

(Image from Hubble Telescope)

Happy St. Nicholas Day!

As I have some Dutch Family, I like to keep the tradition of putting out shoes the night before St. Nicholas Day, or Sinterklaas. Of course the kids love it, too, and this year ambitiously put out boots instead! 😉 We all got one little zippy bag of traditional Dutch cookies, one chocolate, and one decoration for the tree. It’s a fun way to anticipate Christmas, and the excitement of waking up to a surprise brings with it almost as much joy and anticipation as the bigger celebration of Christmas Day!

You’ll notice boots of 4 girls, 2 little boys, and mum and dad, too. And if you look carefully up on the bookshelf, you can see the little ornament of our new baby girl, who at 33 weeks old inside, doesn’t need any shoes yet, but is equally a part of our Christmas this year.

Wishing you all an Advent filled with simple joys and much love!

Solitary Light

Suffering friend,

your brightness bursts

through the dark like lightning.

People are awed by your strength and beauty.

They do not hear the cry of your pain–

your anguish always swallowed up by thunder.

They see only your power,

blinded to the pain that rips

your heart in half with such terrible violence.

They do not realize that you yearn

to be a candle–a warm light

shining in cosy concert with others–

the same simple joys lighting up your face.

Gorgeous, devastating lightning bolt,

strike no more alone,

surrounded by the cold empty air

that crashes through your lungs in suffocating silence

while your tears invisibly drown in the storm.

Reach for me,

let me feel the sting of your pain,

absorb some of the shock,

connect with the current coursing through you.

Illumine my ignorance.

Unblind me so I can see with you

the world from the eye of the storm.

Image from https://ignatiansolidarity.net/blog/2015/10/06/student-voices-thunderstruck-by-pride/