It's the Holidays and that means a lot of emotion for me. I used to sing, and when our group sang best was around now. Our Thanksgiving Eve service was...was just one of those moments when you can't feel your fingertips. There was this one Christmas service once that we did that was the best thing I've ever been a part of. We did so much. So much good for others and each other.
I don't sing anymore, and so this season comes with a deep longing. And now even more longing.
A long time ago, in 2001, I found out my father had cancer over Thanksgiving. And for the postceding months, I believed him to be going or gone. I walked alone at night around the streets of my little town begging God for his life.
And..for the past few years I've been telling my troupe of kids that we should look around the table and be grateful for who's here, because when the kids grow up, who knows where they'll be. Next year, God willing, two will be in college and my heart will miss them. Longing.
I look in the mirror at a tired 41 year old man. If I live as long as my grandfathers, I am more than halfway done. I long for sleep, for health, for a few more moments with my kids - but the kids who giggled in the tub. For my dad - but the dad who plotted out his practical jokes very seriously. For my singing days - but the days when the biggest fight was how long to hold a note.
All this longing. Today we drove by the big Nativity scene outside a church here in Cedarburg and Selah wondered why there was no baby out. I told her it was likely the church wanted people to ask that, to wonder where the baby was, when it would come.
Me too. Come quickly, Lord. Fill my longing with a song again. My father with peace. My children with enough to be strong in you. Fill this season because I need you.
