Four Gifts:
Let laughter ring out like the bells
that flying reindeer wear -
to warm our hearts through winter nights
and lighten every care.
Let friendship's glow enhance our lives
like twink'ling lights on tree,
and lift our spirits with its light
so we'll in darkness see.
Let love burn bright in every heart
like yule log on the hearth,
that all may feel its radiance
and hope might fill the earth.
Let voices raise in carols sweet
proclaiming precious gifts,
to sing of laughter, friendship, love,
and hope that ever lifts.
Whatever else we lack or want,
if these four gifts we give -
we'll surely see them multiplied
through all the days we live.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, December 24th, 2016
Last night we hosted friends in our home, and my new old house was filled with the sounds of laughter and friendly chatter. Some of the people we invited we didn't know all that well, and we wondered whether our invites - given on short notice - would be accepted. But almost everyone we invited came. Most were neighbours who already knew each other, two were guys who did so much work on our house last fall that they started to feel like family, and one was an old high school friend who traveled a couple of hours to share supper, goodies and conversation with a room full of strangers.
My high school friend and I reconnected on Facebook six or seven years ago. He was a guy I met at the lunch table the first week of ninth grade - never a romantic interest, just a buddy. I've joked that you never forget your first boyfriend, and that you likewise never forget the guy who skipped class to sit in the cafeteria and pass you kleenex when you suffered through the breakup with your first boyfriend, and Phil was that guy. So a few years ago we reconnected in person, and after decades of not seeing each other discovered that we still enjoy each others' company. (I think he also likes my cookies : ))
It's fairly hard for me to extend myself socially. My range of comfort is small, and just passing out invitations was difficult. We are the newbies here - I didn't know what any of my invitees would like to do, or what they liked to eat. Maybe they'd find my shindig boring. (Maybe they did - but if so they were all too nice to let on.) What I do know is that it felt like there was easy comaraderie, the conversation didn't lag. We laughed together, they ate my food (and seemed to enjoy it), and they all thanked me for the invitation when they left.
Phil remarked as he was leaving that it was so nice to see neighbours come together and seem to enjoy each other. I'm sure there are people here in my town who don't like each other much, or who just don't intermingle because they feel they have little in common. Maybe some of the people who came here last night feel that way about others who came. I don't know - but really that doesn't matter. What's important is that they all came and visited with us, and that we sensed no discord. Our furnace repair guy seemed to bond with the guy across the street, and one set of neighbours who moved into their home several months before us got to meet someone new to them in our small town. I hope everybody here benefited from our shared evening in some small way.
As I laid in bed last night, I felt hopeful that these new acquaintances would someday become really good friends. Each of them has already demonstrated kindness and generosity, decency and inclusiveness. I thought back over the evening, and how good it felt to bring together old friends and new friends, and to have their laughter echo through the rooms of an old house that is still new to us. That gathering brought together the best gifts we can give and receive - laughter, friendship, love - and the hope that all of the three endure in our lives.
These four things are gifts that never stop giving. I don't really care what presents I get tomorrow. Last night reminded me that I have enough, and that as long as I'm open to new friendships, to hospitality and laughter, to love and to hope, I will always have more than enough.
Merry Christmas to all of you, and may you each enjoy gifts of laughter, friendship, love and hope in the year to come.
Saturday, 24 December 2016
Tuesday, 13 December 2016
Goodness in the Middle - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg
Goodness in the Middle
White and gooey goodness
joins chocolate wafers - so -
and sticks them together
to become an Oreo!
And what's any sandwich
without stuff that's in between?
Take the filling out and
just the naked bread is seen!
Good stuff in the middle
is what helps our lives cohere.
In midst of confusion
there are moments crystal clear.
If sometimes I'm lonely
and miserable - or blue -
I see bread and wafers
but I ignore the glue!
There's good stuff in the middle -
stuff I should not forget.
There's still filling in a pie
I haven't tasted yet.
Tasty filling in a pie
might seem a little thing,
but such delicious "middles"
can make your taste buds sing!
Look for stars among the clouds
when everything looks bleak;
search inside and you'll find strength
in midst of moments weak.
Seek out a spot of beauty
among all that's mundane.
The good things in the middle
of your days can keep you sane!
There's more to life than wafers,
and more than crust or bread -
focus on the fillings that
enhance your life instead.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, December 11, 2016
Yesterday I attended the Presbyterian church in my village. (We had planned to run across the street to the United church, but we overslept, so the Presbyterians got us by default.) I love going to church at Christmas time, and because Mother Nature saw fit to dump seven or eight inches overnight, we weren't about to travel an hour to attend my husband's congregation. So, off we went to join the Presbyterians, neither of us knowing what to expect. We figured if the sermon wasn't inspiring, we'd at least get to sing a few Christmas carols and look inside a building we've admired many times.
Now I don't mean to give too much credence to stereotypes, but both my husband and I had a vague notion that Presbyterians were dour Scots, and that we may not be greeted enthusiastically. But the preacher met us at the door (we'd come into the wrong entrance) and showed us into the sanctuary, which was indeed very pretty. He seemed like a very friendly man, and when the service got underway I was impressed by his enthusiasm and his sincerity. (My husband carped that he used the word beautiful too often, but my response was that I'd rather be around someone who saw beauty everywhere than someone who never saw it at all!)
His message was thought provoking. One of the scriptures he reviewed was Isaiah Chapter 35. He pointed out that this passage was written as a type of poetry called chiasmus - which I'd heard of before, but hadn't given a thought to in several years. He broke it down like this:
Verses 1-2: Creation is transformed - desert places will become as lush and beautiful as fertile areas.
Verse 3: Humanity is transformed with strength
Verse 4: God comes to the rescue
Verse 5-6: Human transformation continues - the blind see, the lame walk; the deaf hear.
Verses 6-7: Creation continues to transform - water replenishes the desert.
I like the way this minister summed up the whole circular process - the work begins, God appears - in the middle! - and then work resumes.
I know a lot of people are ambivalent about the religious aspect of the Christmas season. (Yeah - I can call it that. I was raised believing in Jesus Christ, and thus my holiday is Christmas, and I fail to see how the way I reference what I'm celebrating in any way insults those who are celebrating something else this season.) Many who consider themselves Christian find great satisfaction in trying to keep God at the center of their lives. They strive to lead lives that emulate the characteristics of Jesus Christ - to be kind, service-oriented, non-judgmental and merciful.
But I know everyone doesn't see it this way, so I'm going to expand the concept of "God in the middle" by adding one small o - or perhaps "Oh" - into the mix. You don't need to be a Christian - or a believer in any god - to understand the importance of a little "oh", like -
"Oh - I'm so sorry" (compassion)
"Oh - I have extra!" (generosity)
"Oh - I can do that!" (confidence)
"Oh - I need help." (humility)
"Oh - that's amazing!" (wonder)
"Oh - that's beautiful!" (appreciation)
Here's the kicker - if you just add a small "oh" to the word god it becomes good. And if you live your life trying to keep everything good at your center, then your life becomes good. You become good.
Keeping the real spirit of Christmas hinges on our ability to see good, do good, and be good, and thus keep goodness in the middle of our lives.
Do we look for the good in others? Do we take time to see what's wonderful about our world? Are we willing to admit that sometimes our vision is clouded - that we don't know everything, don't understand very much at all, and go through life stating our own biased opinions without ever observing how we're making others feel in the process? Too often we are focused on the negatives in our lives. We resent having to eat our crusts when the tasty bit of life's sandwich are consumed. We want to scrape off the frosting in the middle and toss out those now uninspiring wafers. We want to dig the filling out of the pie and toss out the crust. (If you're actually tossing out pie crusts, it's because making good piecrust is a dying art. I'll blog about that another time!)
Christmas is all about seeing possibilities. According to the story we've all heard, Jesus didn't arrive on earth as a full grown man, or a supernatural being with superpowers on display. He came as a helpless baby - one many believed would ultimately save humanity. It is a story of faith and hope and infinite possibilities. You don't need to be Christian to understand that every child born should be greeted as a miracle, and that each embodies possible greatness. Every child might grow up to do great things - to cure disease or change the course of humanity through innovation, invention or creation. Every culture and creed on the planet should be able to comprehend the wondrous possibilities that accompany a new life into the world.
Christmas is all about seeing potential in those around us. It's about seeing joy in the faces of those we love and seeing ways to give gifts that mean something to those we love, and then going a bit deeper to see how we can dedicate our talents and time to make others happy and meet their needs.
Do we actively try to "do good"? Do we care about the people around us, and do we care for them when they need assistance? Do we offer friendship to the lonely and comfort to the suffering? Do we involve ourselves in good causes and believe that we can, individually and collectively, make the world a little better each day? Are we focused on being kind, charitable and generous?
Christmas is all about doing good - giving to others. It's about being kind and charitable. It's about showing love for each other through the exchange of intangible gifts. It's about living as though you believe that the world is full of possibilities, and that somehow you can make a difference somewhere. It's also about belief - in the magic and the mysteries that fill our lives with moments of awe, in the power of love, and in ourselves and each other.
Do we make honest efforts at self improvement, or are we defeatists who say, "I am what I am, and this is all I'll ever be?" You don't need to be bothered aiming for perfection - just do your best to be consistently good, and you'll be surprised by how good you feel.
In order to embrace the true spirit of this season we need to embrace all of the best aspects of ourselves. We need to see how we each can emulate the positive traits of the characters of the nativity. We need to know how we can shine like a star, tend like a shepherd, seek like a wise man. We need to believe that we can nurture like Mary and protect like Joseph. We need to be angels who bear good news to humanity - even if the only positive news we have to share is that we believe we can work together to make the world a better place. We need to proclaim goodness through our efforts and actions.
I like the idea of "goodness in the middle". I like to believe that as we work to transform the world around us, we transform ourselves. Goodness comes to the rescue. We save ourselves, and each other, by our efforts to see the best, do our best and be our best. And then the work of transformation continues.
Christmas in my part of the world comes in the middle of cold temperatures and shoveling snow. It arrives in the midst of head colds and back aches. Christmas day comes in the midst of political turmoil, natural disasters, poverty, misery and chaos. The celebration of Christmas comes to the fortunate with all of its trimmings - good things to eat, good friends to celebrate with, presents to open, and beautiful decorations. There's so much goodness in the season - even if you don't see it as a religious holiday, try to see it for the opportunities it offers to share goodness.
I refuse to "bah humbug" through a season that started as a representation of something more. I won't bemoan the commercialism it entails. I won't carp on about the cold that is just part of the month of December where I live.
Instead, I will see this season as a little bit of wonderment in the middle - the good that comes just when we need a little encouragement in our transformative efforts. I'll see the bright lights on the long dark nights, and the possibilities the season offers - to build friendships, to serve others, to be enriched by a lovely story of hope, and by the majestic music that story inspired.
In the midst of my bleak midwinter, I'll consider how lucky I am to have something to celebrate.
White and gooey goodness
joins chocolate wafers - so -
and sticks them together
to become an Oreo!
And what's any sandwich
without stuff that's in between?
Take the filling out and
just the naked bread is seen!
Good stuff in the middle
is what helps our lives cohere.
In midst of confusion
there are moments crystal clear.
If sometimes I'm lonely
and miserable - or blue -
I see bread and wafers
but I ignore the glue!
There's good stuff in the middle -
stuff I should not forget.
There's still filling in a pie
I haven't tasted yet.
Tasty filling in a pie
might seem a little thing,
but such delicious "middles"
can make your taste buds sing!
Look for stars among the clouds
when everything looks bleak;
search inside and you'll find strength
in midst of moments weak.
Seek out a spot of beauty
among all that's mundane.
The good things in the middle
of your days can keep you sane!
There's more to life than wafers,
and more than crust or bread -
focus on the fillings that
enhance your life instead.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, December 11, 2016
Yesterday I attended the Presbyterian church in my village. (We had planned to run across the street to the United church, but we overslept, so the Presbyterians got us by default.) I love going to church at Christmas time, and because Mother Nature saw fit to dump seven or eight inches overnight, we weren't about to travel an hour to attend my husband's congregation. So, off we went to join the Presbyterians, neither of us knowing what to expect. We figured if the sermon wasn't inspiring, we'd at least get to sing a few Christmas carols and look inside a building we've admired many times.
Now I don't mean to give too much credence to stereotypes, but both my husband and I had a vague notion that Presbyterians were dour Scots, and that we may not be greeted enthusiastically. But the preacher met us at the door (we'd come into the wrong entrance) and showed us into the sanctuary, which was indeed very pretty. He seemed like a very friendly man, and when the service got underway I was impressed by his enthusiasm and his sincerity. (My husband carped that he used the word beautiful too often, but my response was that I'd rather be around someone who saw beauty everywhere than someone who never saw it at all!)
His message was thought provoking. One of the scriptures he reviewed was Isaiah Chapter 35. He pointed out that this passage was written as a type of poetry called chiasmus - which I'd heard of before, but hadn't given a thought to in several years. He broke it down like this:
Verses 1-2: Creation is transformed - desert places will become as lush and beautiful as fertile areas.
Verse 3: Humanity is transformed with strength
Verse 4: God comes to the rescue
Verse 5-6: Human transformation continues - the blind see, the lame walk; the deaf hear.
Verses 6-7: Creation continues to transform - water replenishes the desert.
I like the way this minister summed up the whole circular process - the work begins, God appears - in the middle! - and then work resumes.
I know a lot of people are ambivalent about the religious aspect of the Christmas season. (Yeah - I can call it that. I was raised believing in Jesus Christ, and thus my holiday is Christmas, and I fail to see how the way I reference what I'm celebrating in any way insults those who are celebrating something else this season.) Many who consider themselves Christian find great satisfaction in trying to keep God at the center of their lives. They strive to lead lives that emulate the characteristics of Jesus Christ - to be kind, service-oriented, non-judgmental and merciful.
But I know everyone doesn't see it this way, so I'm going to expand the concept of "God in the middle" by adding one small o - or perhaps "Oh" - into the mix. You don't need to be a Christian - or a believer in any god - to understand the importance of a little "oh", like -
"Oh - I'm so sorry" (compassion)
"Oh - I have extra!" (generosity)
"Oh - I can do that!" (confidence)
"Oh - I need help." (humility)
"Oh - that's amazing!" (wonder)
"Oh - that's beautiful!" (appreciation)
Here's the kicker - if you just add a small "oh" to the word god it becomes good. And if you live your life trying to keep everything good at your center, then your life becomes good. You become good.
Keeping the real spirit of Christmas hinges on our ability to see good, do good, and be good, and thus keep goodness in the middle of our lives.
Do we look for the good in others? Do we take time to see what's wonderful about our world? Are we willing to admit that sometimes our vision is clouded - that we don't know everything, don't understand very much at all, and go through life stating our own biased opinions without ever observing how we're making others feel in the process? Too often we are focused on the negatives in our lives. We resent having to eat our crusts when the tasty bit of life's sandwich are consumed. We want to scrape off the frosting in the middle and toss out those now uninspiring wafers. We want to dig the filling out of the pie and toss out the crust. (If you're actually tossing out pie crusts, it's because making good piecrust is a dying art. I'll blog about that another time!)
Christmas is all about seeing possibilities. According to the story we've all heard, Jesus didn't arrive on earth as a full grown man, or a supernatural being with superpowers on display. He came as a helpless baby - one many believed would ultimately save humanity. It is a story of faith and hope and infinite possibilities. You don't need to be Christian to understand that every child born should be greeted as a miracle, and that each embodies possible greatness. Every child might grow up to do great things - to cure disease or change the course of humanity through innovation, invention or creation. Every culture and creed on the planet should be able to comprehend the wondrous possibilities that accompany a new life into the world.
Christmas is all about seeing potential in those around us. It's about seeing joy in the faces of those we love and seeing ways to give gifts that mean something to those we love, and then going a bit deeper to see how we can dedicate our talents and time to make others happy and meet their needs.
Do we actively try to "do good"? Do we care about the people around us, and do we care for them when they need assistance? Do we offer friendship to the lonely and comfort to the suffering? Do we involve ourselves in good causes and believe that we can, individually and collectively, make the world a little better each day? Are we focused on being kind, charitable and generous?
Christmas is all about doing good - giving to others. It's about being kind and charitable. It's about showing love for each other through the exchange of intangible gifts. It's about living as though you believe that the world is full of possibilities, and that somehow you can make a difference somewhere. It's also about belief - in the magic and the mysteries that fill our lives with moments of awe, in the power of love, and in ourselves and each other.
Do we make honest efforts at self improvement, or are we defeatists who say, "I am what I am, and this is all I'll ever be?" You don't need to be bothered aiming for perfection - just do your best to be consistently good, and you'll be surprised by how good you feel.
In order to embrace the true spirit of this season we need to embrace all of the best aspects of ourselves. We need to see how we each can emulate the positive traits of the characters of the nativity. We need to know how we can shine like a star, tend like a shepherd, seek like a wise man. We need to believe that we can nurture like Mary and protect like Joseph. We need to be angels who bear good news to humanity - even if the only positive news we have to share is that we believe we can work together to make the world a better place. We need to proclaim goodness through our efforts and actions.
I like the idea of "goodness in the middle". I like to believe that as we work to transform the world around us, we transform ourselves. Goodness comes to the rescue. We save ourselves, and each other, by our efforts to see the best, do our best and be our best. And then the work of transformation continues.
Christmas in my part of the world comes in the middle of cold temperatures and shoveling snow. It arrives in the midst of head colds and back aches. Christmas day comes in the midst of political turmoil, natural disasters, poverty, misery and chaos. The celebration of Christmas comes to the fortunate with all of its trimmings - good things to eat, good friends to celebrate with, presents to open, and beautiful decorations. There's so much goodness in the season - even if you don't see it as a religious holiday, try to see it for the opportunities it offers to share goodness.
I refuse to "bah humbug" through a season that started as a representation of something more. I won't bemoan the commercialism it entails. I won't carp on about the cold that is just part of the month of December where I live.
Instead, I will see this season as a little bit of wonderment in the middle - the good that comes just when we need a little encouragement in our transformative efforts. I'll see the bright lights on the long dark nights, and the possibilities the season offers - to build friendships, to serve others, to be enriched by a lovely story of hope, and by the majestic music that story inspired.
In the midst of my bleak midwinter, I'll consider how lucky I am to have something to celebrate.
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