Going to a "Christmas Celebration"

J found an advertisement for a "Christmas Celebration" at the downtown Methodist Church this evening. It seemed promising and so we spontaneously got ourselves ready which included Kramer and I dressing alike. The church was HUGE with soaring rafters, extremely tall stained glass windows, and a pipe organ whose size beggared the imagination.

I think Kramer was a little overwhelmed by it all. There was a bell choir, then a teen choir singing from the rear, then a little kid's choir followed by the adult choir. At some point they fired up the monstrous pipe organ and Kramer's face looked a little panicky, but who could blame him? It made my teeth rattle in my head.

He asked to go home a few times in a little sheepish voice, though he did seem to enjoy parts of it, especially the little kid's choir. I don't think he really knew what to make of it all. When we got home J asked him if he liked it and he immediately said, "no". When she asked him why he said, "dat music was weir(d)".

The Whale

What causes a man to be led down a path of growing infidelity whose end is the destruction of his marriage and the splitting up of his family? It seems to me it is an insidious process that happens slowly enough that he can justify each step to himself in a way that could not occur if seen cumulatively, all at once, with the enormity of the loss fully realized. At any one moment he perceives his decisions to be non-malevolent, almost reasonable.

Someone dear to me has gone down such a path and it weighs heavily on me. I’m reminded of that line in Proverbs which reads, “There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” If nothing else it is a reminder to me to be vigilant in safeguarding my own family, to guard my heart. In the midst of such thoughts this week I wrote a poem.


The Whale

A magnificent creature
visible for but a moment
slips beneath the waves
troubling me
that it exists
without access
in a world
only vaguely imagined

The torment begins
a fevered pulse
a need to assess
a need to possess
I find myself again
plying those waters
in excited anticipation
oblivious to troubling signs

When at last
I draw abreast
Harpoon flung
with a furious energy
linked at last
I have it
(or does it have me?)
the slow pull begins

Calm waters turn agitated
treacherous seas
through perilous rocks
before the descent
cold, dark, deep down
crushing suffocating aloneness
far from light & life
far from love.