days > 130 -- celebrating

today i remember and celebrate:
the story that started at the beginning of time and lasts for eternity,
the gift that is completely undeserved and unreasonable, and yet given anyway,
the light that shines in the middle of darkness,
the love for a people who were so broken that they are incapable of truly loving,
the life that once gone, lives again and conquers death for all time,

the hope that is given to stay with us,
to be our light and our love and our life
forever.

wherever you are, whatever you call home, in whichever language you speak:
merry, merry christmas.

stars

i'm walking home from choir, the same thing i do every thursday. there is music singing in my head, notes shining like silver on the tip of my tongue. the village is quiet. 

i'm not sure why... maybe it's the lack of light pollution or something... but there are always more stars than i've ever seen in my village. they literally reach past the horizon, which makes the sky somehow seem a lot bigger than it does in the daytime.  

it's dizzying at first, a little frightening to realize that there are so many different giant burning things in the sky. That our sun is so very small, and our earth is so very small, and we ourselves are practically nonexistent in the universe. and really, why do i even matter?
i remember one of my friends saying she didn't like to think about it. it made her feel too tiny.
but at the same time, it is somehow nice to feel tiny. to look up and feel dwarfed by the stars and to know that no matter how awfully you messed up your language today, they will all go on shining. and that what you do doesn't really affect the universe, not at all. 

the sky is deep and black and filled with stars.
and the constellations look different. they are different. they are not the same as they are at home.
the first time i saw the Big Dipper, i almost fell over because it was in a different place. switzerland is almost the same latitude as portland, so i suppose that doesn't make too much sense. but for some reason all the constellations look bigger, or brighter, or lower somehow. they're almost in the right places, but not quite.  

even the constellations, then, are a constant reminder that i am not at home.
that i am not where i know, where i understand.
that i am not in the place where i belong. 

and yet...
some things don't change. the sky is different, and the constellations look different. but the stars are the stars that i have always seen, will always see.
 the biggest visible things in my life, the biggest things in our universe, continue to do what they have always done. the moons orbit around each other, the planets whirl on their axes, the stars burn bright. no matter what, they stay constant. they don't change.

and so i'm walking home from choir, the same thing i do every thursday. there is music singing in my head, notes shining like silver on the tip of my tongue. the village is quiet.
the sky is deep and black and filled with stars.
and the constellations look different. 

but the stars? 

the stars are always the same.