I have had this line stuck in my head all week, which was driving me nuts because I couldn’t remember what song it actually came from. You know how that works, when you have a line or two in your head and you can’t move forward with the lyrics, you can only hum the rest of it hopelessly? So I finally searched it online. Thank God for the Internet.
“Here We Come A-Wassailing” is not the usual song that is in people’s heads this week. More often, people are looking forward to the completely unintelligible Auld Lang Syne (this from someone who actually wants to marry a Scotsman someday, so I can say that with all the Robert Burns love I have). But it’s the one that’s been in my head, and I can never really explain the things that go through my head.
I do wish everyone a very happy New Year, and I do hope that 2012 is adventurous and exciting and faith-building and wonderful and not the end of the world. (Seriously, I will be very unhappy if it’s the end of the world. I have to finish this degree, among other things.)
There are no serious and thoughtful words of wisdom from me this week; it has been a week around family and old school chums, which translates into it has been a week of memories, mountaintops and some seriously low valleys. I will say, Reader, that Christmas Eve was perfect. Even its imperfections were perfect; in the high-held candles of 450 joy-filled worshippers singing “Silent Night” for all they were worth, I had the briefest glimpse of heaven. In the trust of a friend who made soup with all the love she had, I saw the outline of an angel. It is good to allow yourself to see these things sometimes, I think; not necessarily see them, as in walking toward the bright light and hearing the voice of James Mason telling you not to get fingerprints on the pearl, but seeing the image of God in which we are made.
I rejoice in this particular New Year not because I have any real attachment to the holiday—I don’t, I find it a very strange moment of hope and worry and expectations that are far too high; it’s more of a social experiment than a holiday for me. I rejoice in this one because it falls on a Sunday, and somehow it seems totally right in my life right now to start a new journey in a new year on a Sunday.
Let’s hope I’m awake enough to avoid falling asleep in church. That would perhaps nullify the beauty of starting 2012 in a house of God. But you know what? Even if I fall asleep right in the middle of the homily, I’m willing to bet God will still be around for the year and all its turnings. He’s pretty amazing like that.
“I will look on you with favor and make you fruitful and increase your numbers, and I will keep my covenant with you. You will still be eating last year’s harvest when you will have to move it out to make room for the new. I will put my dwelling place among you, and I will not abhor you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people.” (Lev. 26:9-12, NIV)