A time of sorrow
Today is Tuesday, my writing day, except I keep staring at a blank computer screen, my heart aching. Perhaps you feel as I do, full of sorrow over the senseless horror that took place last week in a little place called Newtown, Conn. There are funerals going on right now, for 20 little children who will never again be hugged by a parent or feel the love of family. Rather than skip this week, I dug back in my files and found two things to share with you. The first was sent to me by Kath Schonau, of Aging Wisely with Heartfelt Hands, and the second one is from Pastor Don Taylor of Newport.
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Otherwise (author unknown)
I got out of bed on two strong legs. It might have been otherwise.
I ate cereal with milk and a sweet, ripe peach. It might have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill to the birch wood, and all morning I did the work I love.
At noon I lay down with my mate. It might have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together. It might have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed and planned another day just like this day.
But one day I know it will be otherwise.
First Corinthians 13, the Christmas Version: (Author unknown)
If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I'm just a decorator. If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook. If I work at the soup kitchen, sing carols in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing. If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties, and sing in the choir's cantata, but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking to hug the child. Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way. Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can't. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust, but giving the gift of love will endure. May the peace of the Lord be with you and yours. Have a very blessed Christmas.
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All I can add today is a prayer that God will ease the unbearable sorrow in Connecticut and, hopefully, there will be positive actions because of this tragedy. We have to hang on to our hope, folks.
Bobbie Lippman is a professional writer who lives in Seal Rock with her husband, Burt, their dog, Charley, and a shelter cat named Lap Sitter. Bobbie can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org
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