Season’s Greetings

I’m sorry I was missing at the end of last week and didn’t post as I normally do on Thursday.

I have been having a bit of a hard time.

Physically, I haven’t been up to par.

For the newspaper I’ve been covering a lot of court recently, some very hard cases that make me think (for a while only) that there is no goodness in the world.

And I’ve been struggling with my decisions regarding my mother.

Late last week, as I drove back to Altavista from court in Rustburg, I wondered how Christmas and the other holidays this time of year can even occur when there is so much strife and unhappiness and despair in the world.

I still put a Christmas CD on in the car, though. And I heard these words from “Who Comes This Night,” a song written by Sally Stevens and Dave Grusin and sung by James Taylor on his album “James Taylor at Christmas”:

Who sends this song upon the air,

To ease the soul that’s aching?

To still the cry of deep despair

And heal the heart that’s breaking.

-

The light and the hope of the season aren’t just for those happily getting together with family, singing carols, opening presents, and eating big meals together.

The light and the hope are for those who feel lost, those who feel sad, those who are at the point where they feel nothing.

The light and the hope remind us of the good in the world. They are comfort to those who need it.

And we all need comfort sometimes.

May all of you who celebrate a holiday this time of year enjoy the season. And may all of you have joy and peace always.

I’ll be back next Monday, Dec. 29.

The happy and the sad

One

  Larry discovered a bird’s nest in the window of a small outbuilding beside his shop. He hasn’t seen a bird around it, but he was careful not to touch it. I was careful, too, when I snapped this photo of it.
  Look how much work went into building the nest.

 

(c) Tina Fariss Barbour

 

Two

  Lynchburg is a small city on the James River in Central Virginia. It’s located about 20 miles north of Altavista.
  I lived and worked in Lynchburg for years. When I was a child living on a farm, when we said, “We’re going to town,” it was Lynchburg we were talking about. That’s where we did our main shopping, saw the doctor, etc.

 

Three

  Recently, out of 189 metropolitan areas in the U.S., Lynchburg was ranked number 37 in well-being.
  To celebrate, the city of Lynchburg made a video of Lynchburg people dancing to Pharrell Williams’ song “Happy.” The video is HERE. It’s a lot of fun to watch. And the song itself is such a happy one.

 

Four
  Have you ever read an obituary or heard a eulogy about someone you didn’t know and thought, Wow, I would have liked to have known that person?
  I had that experience this week. I attended a memorial service for the mother of a co-worker. She died last week of cancer at the age of 55. I had met her but didn’t know her.
  The service was a sad but still joyful celebration of a life of a woman who, by all counts, was a true blessing to others.
  I wish I’d known her.

 

Five

  This is a photo of Chase Bird “polishing” the sofa table in the living room.
  When we took in Chase as a stray over six years ago, we discovered that his front paws had been declawed. He rubs and rubs the furniture like he’s scratching it, but he’s really polishing it.
  He’s our sweet boy.

(c) Tina Fariss Barbour

The Christmas season: Joy and sorrow both have their places

The Joy

I hope you have been enjoying the holidays. We had a very nice Christmas.

Christmas Eve was spent with my mother-in-law and my stepdaughter and her family. Then we had Christmas dinner with my mother and one of my brothers and his wife.

And Santa visited the Barbour household and was very generous.

Chase Bird sniffed out his stocking after I laid it under the tree Christmas morning—I think he smelled the catnip in the toys.

He dragged the stocking around. Then we helped him get his new toys out. He seemed pleased.

I received something in my stocking that I’ve never received before: a bag of coal. I thought I had been pretty good this year, but apparently . . . Santa thought otherwise.

Oh, well, there was plenty of candy in the stocking, too. And actually, the coal is really candy.

The Sorrow

The ending of the Christmas holidays always leaves me feeling a bit low. But this year I’m trying to take a different perspective.

One of my mother’s younger sisters died last Saturday morning. It was not unexpected—she had been suffering from terminal cancer. But it’s always a sobering shock to hear of the death of someone who has been in your life—your whole life.

This week a person in our community who was probably known by just about everyone died. He was a good man, a public servant who served the schools and the citizens of the county for most of his life.

So how do we make sense of sorrow in the midst of the joy that we’re “supposed” to feel this time of year?

Somehow the sorrow seems to be in direct opposition to the holidays. But maybe it’s not.

The Christmas Story, whether you take it literally or figuratively, is one of love. Grace, peace, compassion—they are all there in the story.

Other religions teach love, too. As a Christian, I happen to celebrate Christmas.

For me, Christmas is a reminder of the love that we must share if life is to hold any meaning. Loving others is acting out the love of God. It’s love that we celebrate, and it’s love that comforts.

And if Christmas is a time of remembering this love, then that love should be lived out for the rest of the year.

Maybe the festivities are drawing to a close. But the love is not.