so for many, many years the Christmas song "O(h?) Holy Night" (is the 'h' in there? i vote it to be optional) has been (and continues to be) among my favorites. I can't definitively say "the" favorite because there are just sooo many awesome ones. Ironically, they are probably missing from Fr. Sibley's huge collection of (not so) fresh and funky Christmas songs. I mean, i love you, Fr., but it's about quality, not quantity...and let's face it...it's pretty terrible.
but i digress
Anyway, why do i like, nay, love! this song? (as if i needed any justification for this piece of awesomeness) because of the line: "...'til He appeared and the soul felt it's worth."
...and boom goes the dynamite.
yeah, ya know, that's, uhh, some pretty cool stuff. (feel your worth, soul, feel your worth) ...parce que, though sinners we may be, he makes us worthy to share in glory, goodness, holiness and all that jazz that leads us to that whole concept of sainthood (to which we are all called, mind you).
tonight brings the hope of salvation.
tonight bridges the gap between heaven and earth.
tonight we breathe a new breath of life.
tonight the soul feels it's worth.
so thank you, Blessed Mother, for the courage to say yes. Thank you, Saint Joseph, for your commitment.
and thank you, 8 pound, 6 ounce, newborn infant Jesus...don't even know a word yet...for allowing our weary world to rejoice.
Merry Christmas, y'all.
Daytona
24 December 2010
17 December 2010
faithfulness
I visited my grandparents today in Jennings (J-TOWN!). Visiting them is becoming more and more bittersweet. Sweet because they're outstanding human beings, bitter because they keep aging.
My grandpa is still pretty sharp, but my grandmother can't remember any of us. Multiple times, she asked me "Now which one are you? You're all the same to me."
The three of us visited for an hour or so and their example continues to make a profound impact on me. We talk about family, stories, news, sports...life, really. And it's always nice to gain their perspective on things.
My grandpa likes to reflect on his kids and grandkids and how they all "got good ones" (spouses). I like to remind him that it's no accident. They learned from what they experienced growing up.
We have a family tree that's produced a lot of fruit. Poor grandma can't tell apart which apple fell from which branch, but I thought it to be appropriate that she can't tell us apart because who we are and the love we give isn't ours; it's theirs. It's what we learned from the example of our parents, from their parents. So i'm okay with her not remembering my name. There are things more important things. (but she does know that it starts with "D").
The family tree keeps branching out as long it's connected to the trunk.
As i was leaving down the hall, i thought i heard my g-pa call my name a couple times. I doubled back, peaked my head in and asked if they called my name. He said, "oh i was just reminding momma (yeah, that's what he calls his wife...awesome, right?) which one you were."
So i left, sure that my name would be forgotten by the end of the next day and sure that i would visit them by the end of the next week...
...because you stay faithful to the ones you love, it's the Landry way.
Peace,
Daytona
My grandpa is still pretty sharp, but my grandmother can't remember any of us. Multiple times, she asked me "Now which one are you? You're all the same to me."
The three of us visited for an hour or so and their example continues to make a profound impact on me. We talk about family, stories, news, sports...life, really. And it's always nice to gain their perspective on things.
My grandpa likes to reflect on his kids and grandkids and how they all "got good ones" (spouses). I like to remind him that it's no accident. They learned from what they experienced growing up.
We have a family tree that's produced a lot of fruit. Poor grandma can't tell apart which apple fell from which branch, but I thought it to be appropriate that she can't tell us apart because who we are and the love we give isn't ours; it's theirs. It's what we learned from the example of our parents, from their parents. So i'm okay with her not remembering my name. There are things more important things. (but she does know that it starts with "D").
The family tree keeps branching out as long it's connected to the trunk.
As i was leaving down the hall, i thought i heard my g-pa call my name a couple times. I doubled back, peaked my head in and asked if they called my name. He said, "oh i was just reminding momma (yeah, that's what he calls his wife...awesome, right?) which one you were."
So i left, sure that my name would be forgotten by the end of the next day and sure that i would visit them by the end of the next week...
...because you stay faithful to the ones you love, it's the Landry way.
Peace,
Daytona
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