Labour of Love ~ An Anthem

So, after a full and busy day more unsettling correspondence comes our way.

I hate how unsettled I get when I feel willfully misunderstood. I should know by now that there is no reason for another person to understand the hows and whys of my thoughts. I should expect to be misunderstood and thus operate from a position of expecting to have to clarify. However, this ceases to work for me when there is no opportunity to clarify, no opportunity to answer the charges, no opportunity to turn away wrath, no opportunity to heal wounds...

As I try to process all alone on a cold winter's night, my heart and mind returns to this song that I have been recently reflecting on it. On a weekly basis, I have found myself able to sit and bask in the sentiment expressed by Stephen Hatfield's Labour of Love. In my mind, I think that it's a bit of an anthem for a mystic... ...not that I consider myself a mystic but if it's true, in the words of Bruce Chatwin, that: '..the search for the divine turns people into nomads...' Maybe the search for connectedness to the divine turns us all onto the path of the mystic.

~~~
Let me set the scene for this lovely choral piece.
The tune is based out of a Irish/Scottish song called Fear an Bhata (The Boatman).

Think celtic, the sea and longing...

~~~
Labour of Love (Stephen Hatfield)

Take me, somewhere. Take me somewhere. Take me somewhere. Carry me on.
Carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me on to where there are people like me.

Verse 1:
They brought me to the doctor. She said, "It's the clearest case I've ever seen. This kid needs a ransom, (s)he needs a genie, (s)he needs a ship sailing where (s)he was always meant to be.

Verse 2:
They brought me next to the altar. Know how you feel said the voice behind the screen. This world needs a ransom, we need a genie, we need a ship sailing where we were always meant to be.

Verse 3:
We're standing here in our order. The chords in our voice hoist the sails into the breeze. We'll give you our heart, give you our breathing, give you the ship that could sail Abelard to Eloise.

And you know I'll be looking for someone, and I'll be looking for someone, and I'll be looking our for you there, somewhere there are people like me... somewhere there are people like me... somewhere there are people like me. Somewhere there are people like me.
~~~

I think that the longing for depth of connectedness both to God and the world leaves me a bit raw sometimes. And we all know when we are raw we feel more deeply the pain of the world that we live in.

Maybe sleep will yet come...

Let it snow...

So there is snow on the ground...

M spent all day on Wednesday waiting for the snow to stay on the ground. Flurries were falling all afternoon, finally by late afternoon the snow had begun to accumulate. So we dug out snowy weather clothes and off the four of them went into the blustery night.

At one point, A ran in and asked what was wrong with her hands. Of course, they were red and cold...dry mittens sorted out the problem. It wasn't until we spent some time with friends that the older girls realized snow pants are just what everyone wears...Mommy wasn't trying to inflict cruel and unusual punishment when she was trying to get them to wear these new article of clothing.

Over the past couple of days the ground has been covered with about 2 inches of snow. It's now mid-morning on Friday and the snow has melted so that green grass in peeking through in increasingly larger patches. The girls are a bit distressed that the snow isn't staying longer...I keep reassuring them that the winter will be long and more snow will come. It's fun seeing winter through their eyes...a new and exciting phenomenon.

For me, the onset of winter fills me with nostalgia...being bundled up and walking to school, snow forts, sliding, evenings skating with cups of hot chocolate, hockey, snow banks...

After being away from the seasons of Canada, each passing season reminds me of the things I love...the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth...the continual renewal of life...seasons of rest and sleep followed inevitably by seasons of growth and harvest.

Reflecting on this leads me to step back and look at my life. I wonder if I am just in that season of rest and sleep, where the harvest is in, the ground has expended its resources and the time is for rest. Which then should lead me to approach my current circumstances in a different manner. I should not be taking on new responsibilities, but looking to invite things into my life that are nuturing. I should not look for harvest, but prepare for the dormancy of winter.