The sun is out in all its glory, bringing to heart the gift of The Son, the Light, the Life. It brings a special kind of life alive. It is hope. Brighter days ahead, spring, life-renewing, seeing colors more colorful, mountains beyond clearer, rivers sparkler, skies bluer. One must always turn to the sun, close one's eyes, and feel its warmth bleed into you, warming you to bone and marrow. The sun becomes Word, testifying to the ever loving kindness of God in Christ, Almighty, its Maker.
In the rain, we walked along the shoreline. The two of us need to be one, enabling us to overcome the many obstacles that nature lays across our path. We now hike and walk in a sweet rhythm, each sensing the needs of the other, a helping hand here, a waiting there, each knowing the other needs a lingering so to go together. Having many decades to grow old together is such a sincere beauty. To know the other's strains and pains, the understanding to ensure we go upright together, to have spent so many years hiking the wilds of the earth that our hiking now is a slow dance of graceful intuition. Two old people who share the same music we hear only in our hearts, the song of love. In the rain, we danced along the shoreline.
It is raining. We depart for home today. Fair Haven beautifully awaits us. Whether or not The Circle will be Unbroken is always a sweet way in which I consider all family gatherings; has this one tightened the Tie that binds, has it brought us closer, blessed the widening but unbroken circle? Yes, this one has forged stronger links, woven tighter bounds, and increased the love that seals all deals. We are, at best, a house of scoundrels, a rag-tag bunch of vagabonds, strangers tramping the earth–but tramping together, all for one and one for all. We are loud. We are opinionated, strong-willed, play hard, laugh long and often, allow our spirits free reign, wild is a good way of thinking of us, wild at heart. But above all we are lovers, heaven-bent on loving one another, forgiving our debts, overlooking our faults, laughing at each other's notions, giving no quarter but quickly jumping to aid. We are an American family, southern by birth and grace, followers of Christ Jesus, disciples, crazy, wild, and overwhelmingly high-spirited. We are family and that, we all know, is only and always, and always, by free-flowing grace and mercy.
And it has been put by, The Season, come and gone, and now, as with most momentous periods, I sit quietly, as is my habit, drinking coffee out of a beautiful cup, having read the Ancient Text and spoken with The Ancient of Days and quietly thinking of Him, of life, and of love. We sat at Mom’s old table last Christmas night, talked and laughed, having our fill of one another and pushing into the corners of our hearts, past memories as memories now needed room to fit. A question was posed about the greatest answer to prayer I had experienced. I had not to think of it because I think of it often. 43 years ago, on another Christmas season, my sister had called to plead with me to forgo my plans and stop the imminent vows to set my life course. She would not hang up for hours until I had agreed to her and drove back across the state, those plans put by. As I sat at this Christmas evening table, I looked around and thought again; none of these, the least to the lover, would have been if it had not been for that saintly sister's loving plea to a heart still lodged in a far country.
God is good. God is great. Let us thank Him.
Merry Christmas, Tressella
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| Christmas 2024 hike. |
The stories you have to tell. One way to read this is you have so many to tell and another is that you must tell. Both are equally true and equally important. Before my dad died I interviewed him. The interviews occurred over several visits and many days. However, since then I have thought of many more questions I failed to ask and often wonder about. This Christmas Eve, I am at my firstborn son’s home along with all my family. I have asked to host our Christmas Eve Candlelight Service my lover and I started observing 40-odd years ago. The service is always a great memory for me, remembering the many times we attended and the many times my father led. Someday, sooner than I wish, my lover and I will be gone and our children will decide what traditions they will hold most dear during the Christmas Season. Family traditions are stories we pass down through our families, the great stories of our life with Christ and each other. Some are glorious, some tragic, some deeply rooted in the past, some great hopes for the future, all important to how the story of the Benson family and this evening will be shared again Til the Season Comes Round Again.
This is the last piece of gallery sculpture I made. It is named, The Halo, 49”/49”/7”, birch wood, oil paint, varnish, animal glue, and 24K gold, done in the Icon process. It was created out of meditations on where the idea of the halo originated, the paintings of the Christian Byzantium period where thousands appear, and the fact the halo has disappeared from contemporary art and life. A great loss. It hangs in our home, and often the morning and evening light allow it to be more than present. It is a great comfort to me as my day begins with Him, and then it draws me softly back to Him in the evening light. This morning, at first light, it brought a mild comfort, lifting me out of the struggles of old age, to the solemn stillness required in time with our Father, and… my soul felt its worth.
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When you lose, it is good to wake the following morning to the Sabbath. It reminds you of the trivialities of this earth, of the work left in front of your plow, and of the ultimate victory in life, victory in Him who longs to have you home with Them. Winning and losing are part of life. It is not evolution, it is not the big bang, it is the plight and joy of every human. It begins with being born, you the winner, and 400 quadrillion others losing out. This winning losing continues throughout life, in everything, you win some, you lose some, and then the ultimate loss, you die. This is where the Sabbath comes in. The end of life is a win-or-lose proposition, life or death. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” And so the sabbath reminds us that winning is the ultimate human goal and is available to all who will come to Him. He makes all the other losses pale in comparison. Happy Advent, Merry Christmas, Happy Sabbath. Go Vols.
“And I can't keep from wonderin' how the old folks are at home.” I heard Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers sing “I’ll Be Home with Bells On” and this line reminded me there are no more old folks at home to come see. Lover and I are the “old folks” now. All my olds have passed on save my mother, whose mind has gone on. There used to be only a few, Mamaw and Papaw, Grannie, Aunt Bertie, and Snook. I can remember the last time we were at a table together. It was Thanksgiving 40 some years ago, on Old Mail Rd. Crossville. Mom had set up her treasured dining room table in the living room to make room for all. I had come in, rode hard and wet, and set with them all. I never dreamed of this day or this song. It was just all the old familiar carols sung, these dear old ones of my memories. I was lost in sin much as I am lost now in memories. Oh, to see one more time those Old Familiar Carols who shaped so much of me that is me. Oh, for the coming resurrection I now long for. Another thing I never dreamed of; Come Lord Jesus! Come!!! “Because I keep wonderin’ how the old folks are at home”
Sometimes, I become depressed. My greatest depression is my stuckness. I am stuck in what I think of as Americana. The home, the lawn, the property, the cars, trucks, 4 wheelers, the vacations, the stock market, the grill, the wood stove, the gutters, the bicycles, the leaves, the boat, the dog, and all the rest. It has all captured me into a life of doing but not doing good. The Gospels are the good news of making room for God, and He takes up a lot of room. “Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you.” Christ has come this Christmas “to give me life and life abundant.” I have made my life into abundant things when I need abundant life. The greatest good news for me this Christmas is Christ overcame the world, even my world of abundant things.
What do you see? We see one image a night of outer space produced by the Hubble and James White telescopes. It is a part of our Advent celebration. These two images are from the night before last and last night. What do you see? I see a declaration of glory so unfathomable it demands worship. True worship. I cannot turn away from this. I cannot toss it aside like so many images. It stops me cold confronts me with holiness. How can I believe in something so beautiful beyond all beauty I have ever known? But the answer to this question and all life others is so simple as to bring my mind to solemn stillness. It is the Christ Child, the I AM, the one who is said of, “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.” It is like seeing the sculpture of David and thinking it’s amazing instead of Michelangelo. The amazing Christ Child, my mind “in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing. Still through the clovern skies they come with peaceful wings unfurled, and still their heavenly music floats o’er all the weary world…”
21,535,200 seconds ago, 358920 minutes ago, 14955 days ago, 41 years ago this morning, I felt terribly sick. It was bitter cold, spitting snow. My brother took me to the emergency room of UT Hospital. The doctor laughed at me, said there was nothing wrong, gave me a B12 shot, and sent me on to my wedding. If you had sat me down and told me all that would happen to me in the next 41 years, all the children and grandchildren we would have, the place we would go, the people we would meet, the things we would see, the adventures we would have, I would never have believed it. The Three and her and me has been the greatest adventure I could have never imagined. Bad times and great, deaths and births, mountains and valleys, life has been as real as I would have never hoped for or imagined it could be. I married my lover, and to this day, she is her. I have never grown tired of her, never thought she was anything but drop-dead gorgeous, never not longed for her, felt fulfilled in her, desired her. From the first time I saw her, I loved her and wanted to be with her, and all these feelings and infinitely more have never gone away. Is this normal? I don’t know. I hope so. But the truth is…it is my normal. God be praised. I have never gotten over her.
Ten days out. Ten more days of Christmas. Ten more days to see if The Spirit of Christmas stirs in our hearts, minds, and actions. Most of my Christmas Spirit comes in nostalgia, Christmas past, those childhood days, mine and ours. My Christmas present is also filled with Christmas past, Advent, the remembering of another Childhood, the God Child coming to be with us. My Christmas future, although a mystery now, will be filled with more of the same wonderful memories of this Christmas and all the Christmas past, present, and future. If Christmas is anything, it is a thing of remembering, remembering long ago and far away, over the hills and through the woods, God came to be with us, forever and evermore. Memory is the gift of remembering. How kind it is that we can.
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| The other evening it was snowing as a tug slowly pushed a barge up river. |
It is my habit to rise early, start the coffee my lover has prepared the night before, push the coals from the long night into a pile, lay tinder upon them, and pick up The Ancient Text. After a while, as the Spirit is moving in my heart and mind, a sudden coming occurs, lighting up the darkness in a Godly glow of hope and meaning. Fire has suddenly sprung to life as if some angel had slipped into our home and, brightly appearing, announced, “To God be the glory! Great things He hath done!” I sit and marvel as I stare at the fire and think how many times this miracle has stirred the hearts of men and women, giving hope, warmth, light, and renewed love for a God Who not only conceived of fire but, in an unfathomable act of kindness, shared it with us. Yes, to Him, The Fire Maker, be the glory and honor forever and evermore.
I saw a long worm on our porch crawling along the wet concrete. He didn’t know the concrete was deadly to him, and when the sun dried the concrete, the concrete would leach the moisture out of him, leading to his demise. My lover and I are worm savers, regularly saving them from our porch by tossing them back in the yard. I got up, went outside, picked him up, and tossed him into the yard. If he had half a brain, he would have thought some hand of a monster had grabbed him and tried to kill him by throwing half a country mile. He didn’t. Have half a brain, that is. I had actually saved his life. If I had half a brain, I would have tried to explain to him what I was doing. But I don’t either. Have half a brain that it. I have a whole brain and knew there was no reason to explain to someone without half a brain that I was saving his life. He couldn’t understand it anyway. I came back in and continued my quiet time with The Omniscience, the maker of the worm, and me, me saved, and the worm as well.
It is Christmas time, the Christmas season. Which means what to me? A grasping at the marvel of it, God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.” That Person came from heaven, and became a baby on earth and grew up here, and became a man, and is our Messiah, our Sinless Savior, Who we killed, but He raised Himself from the dead, “And sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.” This is the Who I am trying to grasp. This is Christmas. This is us trying to grasp His birthday. “What will we do with this Man called The Christ?” God bless everyone in grasping this meaning of the season we are all experiencing.
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| Hounder looking at a deer looking at her. |
18°. That's the temp outside. That’s cold. I like cold better than hot. Or, I should say, I like getting warm better than I like getting cool. One, my lover can get me warm but never cool. Fire, one of my favorite things, can do the same thing. And better still, I like the process of getting warmed by both. I am confident enough in my manhood to admit I like snuggling, and I also like building a fire. I like getting up in the dark, banking the coals in the fireplace, and setting tinder, which, later, while I sit in the dark reading The Word and drinking coffee, will suddenly, as a heavenly visitation, burst into flames, filling our home with glowing light and the promise of coming warmth. It is 18°, my lover is 98.6°, and my fire, Google says, is 800°. I keep 18 outside, 800 in a steel box, and my lover in my arms. I like getting warm.
We had been on the road a few days. Returning yesterday in the bitter cold, we unloaded, and I sat about making a fire as Betty put our traveling gear away. Soon, we were reclining with our dog in front of the fire as the sun set over the Tennessee. All was calm, all was bright. Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.
Yesterday, I wrote to encourage you to participate in Advent as a means of experiencing Christmas in a more meaningful way. One of the great treasures of Christmas is meditating on the Virgin Mary being with child, God with us. In the Christian faith, we also experience the same condition. At salvation, God comes to dwell in us as Spirit. We are the new Temple for Him (1 Corinthians 6:19). For some of us, this is a great treasure, for others, a great troubling which might cause us to say, as Mary said, “How can this be?” (Luke 1:24). All of life is based on faith including our sincere celebration of Christmas, for it is all about Christ being with us. Not just a man named Christ but the Son of God Almighty. Advent is a help to our belief and our unbelief (Mark 9:24) because we all need help to believe in Christ, Whom the Angels from the Realms of Glory sang of.
Advent begins today. For you who read this let me encourage you to join me and mine and celebrate Christmas by observing Advent. Christmas can often seem lost on me, like standing outside looking into something I never quite am a part of. As if the greatest party of the year is happening but I never seem to be invited or at least never seem to be as affected as the whole world seems to be. Advent is an invitation to your heart to come in and join in the true meaning of Christmas that causes all the other fanfare. It also adds some liturgy to my life and I long for personal liturgy. Liturgy is a physical act of worship, it is a doing to commemorate, celebrate, and observe deeply held Christian truths; it is religion being performed. The liturgy of Advent is 5 candles, (you can use any you have) one lit at the beginning of each of the four weeks of Christmas and one on Christmas Day. There are many Advent guides you can access online which give daily prompts for each day of Advent. My lover and I use The Atlantic Magazine, Hubble Space Images Advent along with one our daughters-in-law, Britt and Allison shared with us, which I have posted below. You don’t have to be a follower of any religious tradition to find some meaning in a holiday that never seems to live up to its hype. But celebrating Advent can be a way to be a better you, and to be a part of something bigger than the hype of Christmas, to actually be a part of understanding the meaning of Christmas. Merry Christmas
https://ccca.biola.edu/advent/2024/before-the-fall-living-in-a-sacred-sanctuary
https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=Q8ByNT1m8V4
