The Seventh Day of Christmas.

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Oh, I know.  It may seem as if my celebration has been curtailed.  Not true at all.  While I busy the pages with other disturbances, each day I have set a large portion of my time speaking to, and listening to, my Lord.  Gratitude, for sacrifices, those He offered, those of the Mother of Christ.  Thanks for His teaching.  Bowing to the strength He showed in the face of men, in the face of Satan, in the face of pain and death.  While I cringe at my suffering, my imagination cannot even pull together an fragment of His pains.  I sometimes ease my pain with the knowledge of His pain, as one pain can nullify another.

I thank Him for the gift of hope.  In such a sometimes hopeless, hard, cruel world, through His words, deeds, and sacrifices, I got the glimpse of truth, beauty, peace, and the simple notion of life without need or want, privation or sickness, separation and death.  I didn't want to believe.  Why then and not now, why there but not here.  In time, when He called and I came, initially to contest, however, I was shown some things.  What?  I don't even remember.  Not all of it.  Just ask what would turn a wild wolf into a loyal companion?  I am not sure what I was which directed how I thought could be translated into what I have become.  All I know is nothing can separate me from Him now.

I pray, much.  I pray for you, friend or enemy.  I pray for us, as sinners, as poor Christians, as wannabe saints, as potential martyrs, as leaders, teachers, friends, and neighbors.  I pray for those who attempt to teach as He did.  None of us will do His job, all we can really do is... remember Him as we have come to know Him as well as we are able.  And pray for grace for our failings.  In my chair, in bed, on the road, before seeing a new or even somewhat familiar doctor, I pray within my life.  For the death of another, for the right marriage of a couple, for the birth of a child, I pray.  Sometimes for a cause, sometimes without one, sometimes with a Saint in mind, or an Angel, sometimes directly, I pray.  And, almost as often, I just listen.  But not just to air.  I open the channel so that He may speak, or simply fill me with His will, perhaps His way.  Prayer.  Never stop praying.  I even try to pray with my actions.  My blog, in my daily affairs, to Him, to God. 

Yes, in spite of the twists and turns and confusion and such...  I still celebrate the birth of my Lord, Brother, Teacher.  It is Christmas and will be for five more days, then on into the rest of the New Year and my life.  Imbued with the Holy Spirit, I rejoice.  My true Love gave to me... Twelve Days of Christmas.  Seven is a Cherished number, as well.  Blessings and...

Merry Christmas.