Rest

My tenth loaf of strawberry bread cooled on a wire rack. In a frenzy, I darted around the kitchen making a final effort to clean the explosion of mess before Christmas Eve. It was nearly ten o'clock p.m. and I was exhausted, a nasty cough still lingering after a week of vitamins and NyQuil. Ultimately I reached the corner near the phone where magazines, letters to reread, and lists of "things to do" inevitably collect, threatening to become the clutter which I disdain. Our most recent copy of The Word, a magazine our family receives gratis from the Antiochian Archdiocese was amongst the stack. I was mentally and emotionally at my limit and was about to pitch it into the garbage. Yet, supposing I at least owed the people who so graciously produce it a moment of my time, I picked it up for a quick glance before pulling out the vacuum. As I flipped through the pages, I came across an article whose author, quoting from Joan Osborne's 1995 hit, had entitled the piece "One of Us" and who sought not only to demonstrate how the Christmas hymns of the Church testify to her core belief of the Incarnation of Christ - God becoming one of us - but how in "performing" the hymns in worship, "theology becomes alive, becomes praise, becomes dialogue with God. Its vantage point is no longer outside the event to which it refers, but rather the event itself, made present liturgically and encompassing worshippers past, present and future." I slumped to the floor. Leaning against the refrigerator and reading the following hymn from the Eve of the Nativity, I experienced the rest my weary soul and body so desperately needed:

Today is born of a virgin He who holds the whole creation in His hand. He whose essence none can touch is bound in swaddling clothes as a mortal man. God, who in the beginning fashioned the heavens, lies in a manger. He who rained manna on his people in the wilderness is fed on milk from His mother's breast. The bridegroom of the Church summons the wise men; The Son of the virgin accepts their gifts. We worship Thy birth, O Christ! We worship Thy birth, O Christ! We worship Thy birth, O Christ! Show us also Thy holy Theophany.

A blessed Feast of the Nativity. Christ is Born! Glorify Him!

P.S. On the homefront: Thomas has declared his new favorite color to be red. Russell and Elliot have discovered their noses and take great delight in sticking their fingers up this sensory tool, as well as blowing it into their hands. Russell has likewise learned how blowing on one's arm results in noises little boys seem to love; these noises make Elliot giggle. Enjoy our favorite pictures of December!