Live Out Light

 Jay and I were talking about Jesus as a baby, and how did that work? At what age did he have awareness of who he was? I actually have no idea, but it is something to wonder over. Jesus, wordless and in a diaper. Being cared for, cleaned, and fed by human hands.  At a ripe old age, we will eventually revert back to our baby selves, but in old bodies. I saw this with my Mema. Age and dementia took her away piece by piece.  I remember wondering where the rest of her was. Was her spirit still there? Was she trapped inside or was she just slipping away, and how much of ourselves do we shed, what is left that goes on?  When she could still shower on her own I remember standing outside the bathroom door just listening, making sure all was well. When she got out  of the shower she was crying "Oh God, oh Lord, please help me. Please Jesus help me. I am so tired." Over and over again. It was so sad. So much of her privacy had been taken from her that I just stood and let her have her

 Christmas is such a busy season.  I was thinking about what to say for the welcome at church tomorrow and my brain is frazzled and multi-tasking.  Presents and plans and gatherings.  Opportunities for service. Making sure it all gets into the calendar. Wrapping and cooking. All beautiful gifts of the season.  But, So. Very. Busy. And I am a person that loves white space much more than a full calendar.   Baby Jesus we are told, was born in a manger, no room in the Inn. From what I understand about that time period, mangers were actually extensions of the home, often a lower level where animals were kept. This means someone did make space and offered what they had to welcome Mary and Joseph.  Jesus came into the world via imperfect hospitality. For many of us, imperfect hospitality is just about all we have to offer this time of year, and I really think it is a beautiful gift.  This Christmas, I am trying to throw out perfection and embrace the messiness. Remember that Jesus both extend