Confession: I have been waiting for a Christmas miracle.
I didn't know I had this hope in my heart until I awoke this morning, the day after The One Year, and my heart still hurt.
Shouldn't I be able to think about other things?
Shouldn't I be able to write about something else?
Shouldn't there be more joy, less sadness?
I mean, after all, I made it. I survived the year. And many, many people walked, carried, prayed, and survived it with me.
Isn't there some kind of refreshment on this side of the finish line?
It's coming near Christmas,
they're cutting down trees.
They're putting up reindeer,
and singing songs of joy and peace.
Oh, I wish I had a river
I could skate away on.
I wish I had a river so long
I could teach my feet to fly.
Oh, I wish I had a river, I could skate away on.
~ Joni Mitchell, River
"Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest -
I would flee far away and stay in the desert;
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
far from the tempest and the storm."
~ David, Psalm 55:6-8
They both wrote songs of lament,
O, to escape it all.
I sing with them both this morning, on Christmas Eve.