The accumulation of beauty.

I left a note on my parent's bed tonight to let them know that I am sincerely glad to have spent this Christmas with my family.  I did this firstly because yesterday my stance may have been questionable.  It was Christmas Eve and I was worried that I may have found myself stuck in a rut.  This is because I looked back to last year; living away from home, in a different country...I began to worry that a year on and I may be heading in the wrong direction; doomed to become a child again Benjamin Button style.

So Mum and I spent the evening on the sofa playing eye spy, making silly plans for the future; houses, jobs, weddings.  And remembering that life is long and its worthwhile taking the time to slowly develop beauty and good character.  I was reminded I'm not in a rush.

Then Christmas came and this year tradition was swept aside for me (though Dad and Emz have been doing this for a few years) and all four of us went to serve the homeless lunch at the People's Kitchen.  How nice to be together as a family (for obvious reasons Christmas morning church used to cause a divide).  How nice to have a homeless man tell you, "Your Father is a top man!" and to be introduced to all the people who respect your Dad.  How nice for young men fallen on hard times to ask you for a cuddle because its Christmas, or to laugh at yourself because a kiss on the cheek from the local big issue seller is the closest you are going to get to Christmas romance. And oh how nice to have crimped hair the rest of Christmas because you HAD to wear a santa hat.  It was fun, it felt like Christmas.

And then for both Grandmas to come round for family dinner. Grannie because she is usually in Wales, Granmummy because she wrote, "I miss you and Emma when you are away the house is empty" in my Christmas card.  She isn't one to ever share feelings so this melted my heart.  I actually cut it out and stuck it in the cover of my journal, that's how much it meant. And yes I got to be frustrated by yet ANOTHER year without being able to drink wine... or whiskey... or port.  Though I will be thankful for that when we embark on the boxing day run tomorrow morning.

And then as I tidied my room to make space for my new gifts, I stumbled upon my memory boxes.  I hadn't gone through them in forever so it was such fun to reflect on the different phases of life.  Medals, photos, letters, keepsakes.  And then I started a new one, for this phase.  This sweet and colourful phase.  Merry Christmas, today is a good day.

To be known, to be accepted.

I have discovered in myself a great conviction that one of the greatest human needs is to be known and to be accepted.  Undoubtedly at times our balance is lost and in our great desire to be accepted we lose ourselves and are no longer truly known.  Or with equal heart ache we can make too much of ourselves vulnerable in a quest to be known and in doing so make it hard for people to accept us.

And I think this is the loneliness of a break up.  You are still known but no longer accepted.  I see my struggle against this, its harmless but evident.  New hairstyle, new clothes, new passions, travel plans I will never follow through on.  A silent scream that I am ever changing, impossible to pin down; that there is more to me than was walked away from.

And then to add to the suffocation there's the fear inevitable change brings.  The realisation that alas you are in fact no longer known so well by another.  Aspects of life remain secret that once would have been shared and recorded in a conversation or a text or a call.

Its a confusing process.  Its growing and quieting.  Where there's sadness joy can thrive; where there's doubt, hope is treasured.  I may be confused but I am not overwhelmed.  His scars from the cross are my balance, knowledge and acceptance is already complete.

God in my waking, God in my sleeping.

"Every day I sit and look on you.  I watch you, holding my heart so that it does not explode, so that I don't forget myself and grasp you to myself.  Such is my delight in you and how you move, how you think and formulate your understanding.  How you get restless when people lack passion, how you cry at great love or great injustice.

I sing when you talk to me, I literally sing, because I know we share secrets and they are my joy.  To know you have shared with me your secret loves and hopes and tears.  To hear your true opinions and the things you are sorry for that you need never be.

I weep when you weep, when I hear you long for me to hold you because you can not hold yourself.  I weep when you doubt yourself or others express their doubts over you.

When you shy back from boldness because you've believed the shame, I am not angry at you, I am angry at my enemy who has hurt you to get to me.

I am nervous when you fear your future is small, because I know that every day you have the choice to walk away from me.  And I breathe easy each night as I get to hold you as you sleep in safety.  I know you are worried you think and cry too much, but do not be afraid.  This is something I need from you as I clothe you for the battle you will fight. I could not be more glad that you are mine and there is nothing, nothing I would not do for you to choose me every day.

I will wash you and heal you and sing my praises over you.  Every day, just as much as you need my child.  I love you perfectly, Abba."