i read this article once about how to be a great blogger. seems that you need a theme. something that you blog about... food, family, books, photography, etc... and stick to your little niche. well, that is so not me. the only thing that i manage to stick to is the extra pounds on my body. i originally named my first blog “blog it all” because i thought that sounded fun. (and i think i had eaten at “dog et al” for lunch the day i created the blog). but that title has proven apt. this blog is kind of like my mind. sometimes funny, sometimes serious, every now and then deep thoughts surface and then sink down where those crazy looking fish dwell. i have covered homemade furniture, favorite recipes, interesting and sometimes uninteresting stories, photos, homages to john piper, holiday crafting, and the occasional poetry lesson... perhaps another suitable titling would be “scattered, smothered and covered”. or is that how i like my hash browns at waffle house? i get my blog and hash browns confused sometimes.
so today is a poetry day. whoo hoo! get excited. i read this poem yesterday. i read it at least a dozen times. i even read it out loud to myself to really hear the words (don’t worry, no one else was home). i think poems really come to LIFE when read aloud. so try reading it out loud (perhaps when you are alone in the room.) it might be my new favorite Christmas poem... and maybe it will be yours too.
“The House of Christmas” by G.K. Chesterton
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost – how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.
This world is wild as an old wives’ tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
–G.K. Chesterton, “The House of Christmas”
i think it spoke to me because i have known homeless mothers. i have taken their photos. i have held their babies. i have looked into their eyes and they are more like me than i ever thought. they are mothers. they are women. they love their babies. they want to be loved. they want a warm home. they want security. and dignity. and hope. and a nap.
we are only at Home because our Savior and his parents were homeless for a period of time.
in this time of freezing florida weather i KNOW there are homeless mothers and children out there. i love that our church opens its doors on freezing nights and lets in those who have no warm place to lay their heads. we open the showers. hand out towels, shampoo, soap, and love. in His Name. the Name of One who left His Home... for us.