The Center Peace

Thank you for my flowers friend!

The Christmas bouquet caught my eye as I rounded the corner, distracted I almost ran my cart into a group of shoppers awaiting samples.  Dodging a grandma with three littles munching goat cheese on crackers, I parked my cart and wandered closer to give them a second look.  They were pretty.  Roses, greenery and a delightfully hideous gold pine cone accent.  I loved them!  A store bought center piece hadn’t graced my table since 2008 when I was given one for helping at a Christmas party.  A square vase provided the base for a flurry of pinks and reds.   Hidden in the blooms were plastic Christmas candies, realistic enough to catch the eye of anyone under 4 feet tall.  I loved that center piece; it kept me happy right into the New Year, when life took a turn toward difficulty and a season of suffering. 

Frugality, once learned, is force capable of silencing many a heart’s desire.   I checked the price tag and immediately dismissed the idea of buying them.  The budget allowed for some new things this Christmas, but splashing out on flowers wasn’t one of them.  Turning my attention to admiration and appreciation lessened the desire of ownership.  I spent a few moments looking at the velvety petals and walked on.  Flowers are amazing. If I could spend 5 minutes as another creature, I would turn into a honey bee and hang out in a rose bush (a rose bush that had been checked and had no spiders).  What a glorious thought.  The image of fuzzy bees foraging in flowers kept me preoccupied until I made it out of the store.  I returned home, unpacked the groceries and made myself some tea.   

I browsed news headlines as I sat and it didn’t take long for a sense of disbelief to settle over me.  Like many people, I find the amount of incivility in the news headlines astonishing.  The rudeness and vitriol seems unprecedented. Attack by twitter has become the norm and public anger is so fast paced I’m not sure any of us are coming out of this unscathed.  How does one conduct oneself in a culture of rage?  Is it possible to make a difference?   I sighed.  It was time to get off the computer.  Sitting at the table, I pulled out a pen and paper.  I needed to make a to-do list.  For the first time in over a year, I was having dinner guests and I was more than a little nervous. 

It wasn’t the cooking, I had my menu planned and didn’t give it a second thought.  One of the joys of being over 45 is that you know if dinner fails ordering takeout isn’t shameful.  My uneasiness came from my choice to have company in my home again.  My hiatus from entertaining was deliberate.  It was my response to unkindness targeted at my family at one of the most joyful times afforded by the Christian calendar.  To have people over for dinner was a big deal, it felt vulnerable and I didn’t want things to go sideways.  I wanted to provide a peaceful meal in celebration of the holdiay.  

I fussed and putzed the afternoon away, getting things ready and cooking.  When the house was clean, the candles lit and everything presentable I called my family together for a quick prayer.  “Lord, help.  I really don’t want this to go badly.  Please have mercy. I’m not sure why I’m doing this, it could be a really bad idea.”  To which everyone rolled their eyes and said “Amen.”  Sometimes I pray quickly, don’t know what to tell you.  As my guests rolled up, I had a momentary panic, wondering if being social again was a wise idea. 

Was the table big enough? Would I say the right things? Would I give my guest food poisoning?  Would they be put off by the fact we drink from Mason jars? Should I have bought the centerpiece to make the table look better? A million stupid things flew through my mind before my friend walked up the walkway.  “Hi!  We made it.”  She smiled and handed me a gift as her crew bustled through the door.  I barked directions to my girls, grabbed coats and kicked shoes until I realized I was holding the same flower centerpiece I didn’t buy from the store.  It had made it to my table after all. 

I Heard the Bells On Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play;

In music sweet the tones repeat,

“There’s peace on earth, good will to men.”

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“God is not dead, nor does He sleep,

For Christ is here; His Spirit near

Brings peace on earth, good will to men.”

When men repent and turn from sin

The Prince of Peace then enters in,

And grace imparts within their hearts

His peace on earth, good will to men.

O souls amid earth’s busy strife,

The Word of God is light and life;

Oh, hear His voice, make Him your choice,

Hail peace on earth, good will to men.

Then happy, singing on your way,

Your world will change from night to day;

Your heart will feel the message real,

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~

I’m thinking of you my friend, as rage battles around us.  Praying you will find the peace you seek this Christmas.  Asking God would give you good will towards others, as this seems to be in short supply.  I pray you might have the courage to do something new, like share a coffee or bring a neighbor a plate of cookies.  Maybe get radical and sing a carol on the bus. I'm hoping that in the presence of injustice you would know that God is not dead, nor sleeping.  He sees malice and we are speeding toward a time when we will need to give an account of our deeds.  He cares about the small things and will give you the strength to endure.

Enjoy the Christmas lights.

xoxK