Thoughts and Questions from Aramis Thorn: December 2020

31 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ I Bring You Hope

"Let the bells ring out for Christmas, at the closing of the year.” I invite you to ponder this with me for my last post of the year. As we close the year, Christmas 2020 is behind us but I ask you to find hope with me by looking for Christmas yet to come.

I know that some of you are inconsolable regarding the state of the world right now. Depression and anxiety rise. Life is uncertain. There are those in pain that I cannot imagine. I love you and pray for you. There have been good things this year and we must “count the blessings that are real.” We do this by finding hope that each evening, from December to December, we can find hope every day in the bells of Christmas.

We find the way through this mess by loving each; “within our love of people, at the closing of the year.” We must choose love over everything if hope is to be realized. I have had a beautiful year because of this. Love reaches beyond all of our circumstances. Love crushes all barriers.

I may and should mourn for losses, for absent friends, and for the state of the world. That, however, is not where I am supposed to live. I am to walk in the sun with the Son. I am to see the hope of Christmas every day of the year. I am meant to follow Christ through the year with that painful pergational pause in Jerusalem. In the springtime there I take up my cross and continue to follow.

We sorrow at the death and revel in the life. We may ice our houses in the dog days but we will warm them at Christmas. We may all be covetous old sinners but there is hope for all of us. We must walk “with all of the faith and all of the patience; all of the way.” It is the only way out. It is the only way home.

It is our love of others that will help us find the truth. When we search for truth in anger and hatred, we find lies that leave us alone and hurting even when we are doing so together. If all of this seems rambling Dear Reader it is because my heart is so full. As I close the year, my heart is filled with the love of the Father for each of you. I long for you to find the love that the Father has and see how his Son asks you just to follow him out of this mess.

I will begin the year by spending time in prayer for you to find the love that you need to heal your heart. I will ask the Father to take the hearts of stone and turn them to flesh again. I will ask the Spirit to draw you toward the grace and mercy we all need. I will ask the Son to be born in you every moment of every day. I will ask the bells of Christmas to ring out the hope that we all need. I love you, Dear Reader. I thank you for walking home with me. I pray the blessings of Christmas bring you hope every day and especially at the closing of the year.

Closing of the Year – Wendy and Lisa

If I cannot bring you comfort
Then at least I bring you hope
For nothing is more precious
Than the time we have, and so

We all must learn from small misfortunes
Count the blessings that are real
Let the Bells ring out for Christmas
At the closing of the year

Let the Bells Ring out for Christmas
At the closing of the year

Up on the knees of a Sergeant Major
Ride through the woods with the wind in your hair
Silver bells on a golden reindeer
As they race to the castle over there

If I cannot bring you comfort then at least I bring you hope

Now all the winter bells are ringing
Hear them echo through the snow
And the children’s' voices singing
On the streets so far below

This is a time to be together
And the truth is somewhere here
Within our love of people
At the closing of the year

We'll walk in the sun
With all of the faith
And all of the Patience
All of the way
With all of us right
And all of us saying
"No one an island"
We'll fly in the arms of time
Walk in the waves, never fall
Don't fall...

At the closing of the year...
At the closing of the year...
At the closing of the year!

If I cannot bring you comfort, then at least I bring you hope
Then at least I bring you hope...

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a homeowner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

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“This is a time to be together, and the truth is somewhere here, within our love of people at the closing of the year” – Wendy and Lisa

30 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Opportunities

Greetings Dear Reader,

The time grows close. Tomorrow is the last day of a year that has plagued us at every turn. Still, I recall that everyone saw it as the year of opportunity. They saw it as some great portent of good that it was 2020. I chose yesterday to look at all the blessings I had over this year.

Today I want to consider the opportunity that lies before us. 43 hours from when I am writing this the year will end. We will either enter the new one with hope or despair. We will be given a new journey around the sun containing 8,760 hours. That does not seem like much when we consider that many of us will spend 2,920 of those hours sleeping.

My thought is that we are all given this set of hours and what we do with it is still up to us. I ponder often that what I think of something often determines what that thing becomes for me. Time moves whether we wish it or not. The 525,600 minutes that will be known as 2021 are all ours to choose what we will make of them. It will be easy for you to put obstacles in your way by pondering the challenges we face or the work we have to do.

It is not for that purpose that those 31,536,000 seconds are given to us. There is a single purpose required of me in those 525,600 minutes. Jesus told me very clearly that my prime directive is to “love the Lord your God with all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength.” This means that walking into a new year there are 525,600 minutes where Jesus is already waiting to meet me and encourage me. The Spirit is ready to guide me through every moment with love if I enter it looking for ways to love the Father with all that I am.

God is not surprised by the challenges I face or the burdens I carry. He wants to meet my love of him with provision, guidance, and companionship along the way. Every minute that I spend thinking, speaking, and acting out of love for the Father becomes an eternal moment. Instead of dying and drifting into the past, I can transform every minute into a part of the only thing that truly lasts; love.

No matter what is happening around us, we are not alone. Each day is “the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” That is the way to paddle out of the mess. That is the path home. This is the way in which every grain that passes through the pinch of the hourglass that is 2021 can last for eternity. Only love remains. This is the narrow way for me, Dear Reader.

It is using every one of those 525,600 minutes to love the Father that I find the power to better love my neighbor, my friends, and my enemies. It is how I avoid being offended by foolish things. It is in this singular granular quest that I find my true being. When I think of how to love the Father, I find the way to love others as well. It where I begin to get an inkling of how deeply the Father loves me.

I am looking forward to all 525,600 minutes wherein I am allowed by grace and mercy to love the Father in my innocent and meager way. He treasures every honest attempt and does not chide me for being insufficient. You are welcome to walk with me in those minutes, Dear Reader. Part of loving the Father is loving you. That alone fills me with hope.

Seasons of Love – Rent

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure? Measure a year?

In daylights,
In sunsets,
In midnights,
In cups of coffee,
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in a life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love...
Seasons of love...
Seasons of love...

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand journeys to plan
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that she cried
In bridges, he burned
Or the way that she died

Its time now to sing out though
The story never ends
Let's celebrate remember a year in a life
Of friends

Remember the love...
(Oh you gotta remember the love)
Remember the love...
(Oh yeah, it’s a gift from up above)
Remember the love...
(Sing out, give out, measure your life
In looooooove...!)
Seasons of love...
Seasons of love...

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

What if I told you that you only have to do one thing to get through next year with great success?

29 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Blessings

Greetings Dear Reader,

It is true that the best way to combat worry is to ponder the good things we have. I am not just talking about the idea of counting blessings. I am speaking of a real inventory of what we have in our lives that is good.

I hear people talk about all the things they do not have. They list the things they long for or wish to possess. I sometimes talk about my wishes and dreams but never do I want to be the person who loses my joy because of something I do not have. I will dive deep for a moment.

Giving the impression that I have it all together is not honest. I write this blog every day because I do not have it assembled and running. I struggle daily with sin and self-esteem. I fight loneliness and regret. My applications here are to make me more determined to follow Christ and not to say that I am good or an example for you. My invitation to apply what I do is so that you have yet another source of faith and following.

I am also not Pollyanna about it. I know that who I am is a crooked stick and needs shaping into the proper staff for others to lean on when needed. So, in the midst of all of that, I choose to be grateful for what I have and prayerfully ask for the Father to put the proper desires in my heart. If prayer yields our heart’s desire then I wish for those desires to be based on what the Father is helping me become.

I know that the Father gives me so much that is so good. When I begin to feel that I do not have what I think I need or what I want, I must focus on that. I must tally the many ways the Father provides for me and follow the Son in shaping my desires. Most of the things I long for are too personal to enumerate here. You know about Project Tortoiseshell and my desire to only write for a living. You are free to pray for me if you wish concerning those things.

What I would rather have is to see clearly the many blessings I have and use them wisely in seeking the Kingdom and the righteousness of the Father. I want to follow the Son as closely as possible. Instead of seeking more blessings, I wish to be a blessing to others. For a brief period, this year I was pursuing instead of following. The pain of that difference will last for a while.

When the sadness of that error tries to overcome me, Dear Reader, I will recount all the good things I have and how little I deserve anything good. When people I love say words that hurt me, I will recall what the Father says about me. I refuse to fail to count the many blessings in my life and so dishonor the provision of God. I will use my feelings of lack to motivate my gratitude. I do not ask you to write them down, but it may be time for another blessings inventory. I know that I needed one. I may not have all I want but I have more than I need. That is plenty.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

An inventory of blessings and a recounting of what is good in our lives leads us to gratitude and that is a beautiful place to be.

28 December 2020

Second Thoughts ~ Farewell and Hoping You are Safe at Home

Greetings Dear Reader,

On Saturday, April 30, 1966, the clouds held the air in a damp dishrag torpor. Clouds threatened rain but we made our way to Atlanta Fulton County Stadium none-the-less. My Grandfather parked in his usual place a few blocks from the stadium and we made our way to the gate an entire hour early for the game.

I would learn that this was his habit when it came to baseball. That night was my first experience at the game I would grow to love beyond measure. As we entered the stadium uniformed police officers would call my Grandfather by name. He would stop and shake hands with each man and share a memory or a moment with him. He would then introduce me. Eventually, we found our way to our box seats right next to the Braves dugout. We would spend many late spring and summer evenings here. I did not get to see the Braves play in Autumn until many years later.

That night other officers came up to us as we dined on hotdogs and cokes. One of them, a police sergeant, said to my Grandfather very cryptically, “Everything is set when you are ready.” He nodded and signaled for me to stand up. I did. Taking me by the hand he took me to the gate near our box seats and then down the stairs onto the field. The sergeant met us there and walked us toward the Braves dugout.

As several of the players came out, my Grandfather began to introduce me. I met Joe Torre, Eddie Matthews, Felix Millan, Henry Aaron, and just before returning to our seats Phil Niekro. I would get to chat with all of them over the season as my Grandfather always got their attention. I never learned why but the players always came out to see him and by relation to me as well.

Phil Niekro pitched that night and I learned what a knuckleball was. Later in the season during a rain delay, he came over and taught me how to throw the pitch. He was always kind and always had time for my curious questions. During his career, he was my favorite pitcher anywhere. He is why I learned to pitch and why I became good at it.

When I heard of his passing this week, it moved me greatly. It was not until the Braves pitching staff of the nineties that I felt the awe for a pitcher that I felt for Phil Niekro. He always was steady, dependable, and unshakable. I send my condolences to his family and my gratitude to the universe that this professional had room in his schedule for a little boy who loved baseball. Rest well, sir. Thank you for the memories.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

Bob Uecker; Braves catcher for Phil Niekro [On the best way to catch a knuckleball:] “Wait’ll it stops rolling, then go pick it up.”

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Worries

Greetings Dear Reader,

The Sunday after Christmas is always a bit of fun for me. I enjoy seeing everyone wearing whatever things they received for Christmas. I was not disappointed this year but there was a twist to it. I was surprised at how many people were wearing pajamas at church.

I enquired of a friend who was in a very nice set of flannel Wonder Woman PJ’s and she told me that many people had gotten new pajamas for Christmas because they were still going to be working from home. This was practical and humorous. Then she said something that made me realize that beneath the practicality and the humor lay fear and worry. She said, “If this keeps up, we will not be buying fun clothes ever again.”

The Church I attend took the time to survey us all to see if we are doing OK. I find that folks are worried about so many things over which we have zero control. I just completed writing about the need to refrain from worry. It seems that we use up so much time worrying about the things we cannot control. We waste our creativity and time on that which may not even happen.

There are so many things over which I hear worry. I long to only ponder the things which are true, good, reputable, loving, and pure. I do not always succeed and when I worry it is almost always over things I cannot command. Perhaps if we focus on using time well in terms of what we think we can find a path to peace. I know that the Father teaches me about worry. He asks me to reject it and not overthink things. Instead, he wishes for me to focus on faith and following the Son.

We could decide to pack up our worries with the rest of the rubbish that is in abundant supply the week after Christmas. We can pitch it out and determine to pray instead of worry. We can choose to love instead of fear. It is how we use the time in our minds that determines who we are. I hope that as we close the year you can leave your worry in the rubbish bin, Dear Reader. I know that I want to worry no more and choose to use my time to hope, love, and have a deeper faith.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

Is it possible that we are buying pajamas because we are worried that we will not need to go outside for a long time?

27 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ Turn of the Tide

Greetings Dear Reader,

I am concerned about those who are pushing so hard for the year to be over. There are still some quality days left in this year. It is not the year that causes the difficulties in our lives. People have been trying to wish this one away since April.

Let us indulge in that fantasy for a moment. Suppose we could reach a place in the year where we could collectively agree that the year would end. How long would it be before we were wishing away the next year and the one after that? We see the bad, forget about our blessings, and wish away the potential for good.

Just so I have managed expectations responsibly, the problems in our lives are not going to magically disappear next Thursday night. Many will carry over because the only way out of them is through them. I just finished writing the third book in my Thoughts and Questions Devotional series. It will be out late in April. The focus is on joy in whatever circumstances we find ourselves.

We wish time away instead of redeeming it. I have spent the entire month of December being able to give to others with great joy. It is not anything special about me. It is the Father meeting my needs and blessing me to the point where I am free to give to others. That last part is always there if we determine to see it. There is always a way to see our blessings and find the joy to share with others. Instead, we too often focus on what we do not have.

As I close this year, I am determined to see the blessings in it. I want you to join me in this. We are all better off than we deserve. We all have things to be thankful for every day. Here is a starting place for me; the Father thinks about me every single moment always. If he did not, I would cease to exist. Job understood this when he was sitting in ashes, mourning the deaths of his children, and being falsely accused by his friends.

The Father constantly pours love, grace, and mercy into every moment of sand that passes through the pinch. He asks that we look for the Son in each of those moments and follow him. I must take time as the year drifts to the bottom of the glass to count the blessings in my life instead of wishing it away. The tide will turn, the calendar will be renewed, and the hourglass will be full again.

The seasons will come and go. We will have some loss along the way. It is my obligation to use each moment I am gifted. As I journey through them, you are part of the company I would keep, Dear Reader. As we close the year, let us share some of the blessings that have been ours. I cannot wait to hear yours.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

As each grain of sand drifts through the pinch, there are blessings in it we must not miss.

26 December 2020

Be Born in Me ~ Promises to Keep

Happy Christmas Dear Reader,

What did you write down yesterday? I promise that you can find ways to see that Jesus is always with you. He promised that he would be and that is enough. Christmas has other promises to keep.

I saw a friend post last evening that she wished to know if it were allowable to put away her Christmas tree. I know there are those who are done as soon as the fanfare is over. I wonder if we understand that Mary was never able to put away Christmas. Daily she watched as her Son grew into the man, Jesus. Even after the family moved back to Nazareth and she bore other children, she had daily reminders that her Son, Jesus was different.

He was not becoming the Messiah. He was already this when he was born. Christmas had promises to keep. Each day those promises were partially fulfilled as he lived without sin and grew in knowledge and wisdom. Growing in knowledge and wisdom is what we do when we allow Christ to be born in us. It is what happens when he is bourn by us.

Christmas has promises to keep and we are the ones in whom the Father entrusts the keeping of some of those promises. It is always the right time and place for another Christmas song. I am not talking about pretty trees and proboscis challenged reindeer. I am speaking of the songs that celebrate Christ. There is always room for us to ponder Bethlehem and ask Christ to be born in us today. It is always the right day to consider all the things Mary did as she went from Bethlehem to Egypt and then back to Nazareth.

Perhaps if we kept room in our hearts for Christmas songs all year, we would find it easier to celebrate Christ in each moment. This is the last day I will ask you to write something down, Dear Reader. We will talk more about writing down an application to truth in the New Year. Today, however, I ask that you write down how you are going to meet Christmas in the moments of deep winter, glorious spring, the warmth of summer, and the crispness of autumn. How will you keep the promises of Christmas throughout the year?

Each evening from December to December I will be reviewing my day to see where I have allowed Christ to be bourn by me. For now, I am going to pour another cup of coffee, grab a Christmas biscuit, and make time for Another Christmas Song. Tomorrow we will turn the corner and close the year. I love you, Dear Reader. Christmas and I have promises to keep.

Another Christmas Song – Jethro Tull, Ian Anderson

Hope everybody’s ringing on their own bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone’s connected to that long-distance phone.
Old Man, he’s a mountain.
Old Man, he’s an island.
Old Man, he’s awaking – says,
“I’m going to call, call all my children home.”

Hope everybody’s dancing to their own drum this fine morning –
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town.
Old Man, he’s calling for his supper.
He’s calling for his whisky.
Calling for his sons and daughters, yeah – calling, calling all his children round.

Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones of chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere –
even if you’ve never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you, that might be the Old Man calling me.

How many wars you fighting out there, this Christmas morning?
Maybe it’s always time for another Christmas song.
Old Man, he’s asleep now.
Got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and daughters and proving, proving that the blood is strong.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

“Dreaming of his sons and daughters and proving, proving that the blood is strong.” – Ian Anderson

25 December 2020

Be Born in Me ~ You Are Here

Happy Christmas Dear Reader,

What did you write down yesterday? Jesus only takes up residence where he is welcome. All of the stuff that makes him less than loving is manmade.

Today I am meditating on the presence of Christ with us. He is Emmanuel, literally “God with us.” The Bread of Life, which we discussed earlier in November was born in a town whose name means House of Bread; Bethlehem.

In the fullness of time, the Father tipped the glass and things began to flow again. On that December morning the Creator of all things became a part of his creation so that he could be with us. This is brief today. We need to get that Jesus is always here. He said, “I am with you always.”

I am writing down that I will live each moment as if Christ is with me because he is; that is the reality of it. I wish you a Happy Christmas, Dear Reader. Find the Child, the Man, and the Lord. He wrote his name on my heart in flame and that is a wound I will not erase. Jesus, you are here.

You’re Here - Francesca Battistelli

Hold on now, I gotta take a deep breath
I don't know what to say when I look in your eyes
You made the world before I was born
Here I am holding you in my arms tonight

Noel, noel, Jesus our Emmanuel
You're here, I’m holding you so near
I'm starring into the face of my Saviour, King, and Creator
You could've left us on our own, but you're here

Don't know how long I’m gonna have you for
But I’ll be watching when you change the world
I Look at your hands, they're still so small
Someday you're going to stretch them out and save us all

Noel, noel, God with us Emmanuel
You're here, I’m holding you so near
I'm staring into the face of my Saviour, King, and Creator
They could've left us on our own, but you're here you're here

Someday I’m gonna look back on this
The night that God became a baby boy
Someday you're gonna go home again,
But you leave your Spirit and flood the world with joy

You’ll be here, I’m holding you so near
I'm staring into the face of my Saviour, King, and Creator
They could've left me on my own, but you're here you're here
Hallelujah you're here hallelujah
You're here

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; Those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them.

24 December 2020

Second Thoughts ~ A Christmas Memory

Happy Christmas Dear Reader,

In my book Sheetrock on the Road, I tell many stories about my youth. Most of those stories are conglomerates or fiction in one way or another. The story I share tonight is one that happened just as written. I gift it to you in hopes that you will find a way to open who you are to the possibilities that are real.

Miss Smith’s Second Cry

Sometimes, when you are just acting out of love, you find out that you have power. The power of which I speak is that over the human heart. It is the power to move it to places it did not intend to go or perhaps places that the heart did not know existed, but longed for just the same. I mentioned earlier that Miss Smith cried three times; the first being when I asked her to be my mom, the third when she was forced from our classroom by politics. Her second cry was all my doing. I also mentioned earlier that I was in love with Miss Smith and that love and its pure and simple fruit is what brought tears to her eyes and changed the path of my life forever.

As in many of the tales about my youth, most of the events in this one happened when I was on the edge of my eighth year. The crushing horrors to soon enter my life were not yet upon me and the tutelage of my Grandfather was still strong within me. Had I known what was up the path I may have refused to go along it any further. Had I had a choice I would probably not have gone any further at all.

Miss Smith’s second cry was the second to last best moment of my seventh year. It shaped a part of me into the man who dares to ask you to read his meager scratching. This singular event echoes still in my heart, mind, and soul.

The other character in our short vignette is a typewriter. That typewriter’s name is Deviled Ham. It got this name during my adolescent angst years during which it was the victim of my very bad and dangerously hammy teenage poetry.

It is an Underwood Leader. When I inherited it the ribbon was old, the keys stuck, and the carriage return sometimes came off when used. Made in the early years of World War I, my Great Grandfather used it as a war correspondent in France, England, and eventually Germany. I wish it could tell me the stories that it once told the first time the Western World tried to undo itself.

This portable typewriter was gifted to me by my Mother and my Nanaas a way to keep me out of mischief. Had they imagined the mischief that lay ahead due to my writing, they might have burned the Underwood and punished me just on principle.

The Underwood, however, was mine. I pecked and typed and pawed at it. Mom showed me about the home row and proper typing but I had no interest in that until nine years later, but that is also a different tale saved for a later volume. Miss Smith is the one who allowed me to release the true power of the Underwood Leader.

Just eight short days before Christmas and only one day before Christmas break, we were told to write a Christmas poem. Miss Smith said that it could be about anything concerning Christmas as long as it was neatly written and grammatically correct. I was still in love with Miss Smith and ignored everything but my typewriter when I got home. I would craft the best poem ever.

My small mind imagined her face as she read the poem. I could hear her rejoicing at the brilliance of my writing and begging me to come live with her forever. Frankly, I was the sappiest second grader ever. I spent four hours writing and typing. I had no typing paper so I used the striped Blue Horse paper we used in class.

Feeding the paper in carefully I struggled at first to line up the blued lines with the typing. I soon realized that both were out of alignment and it would not work. I typed on. The Underwood had an old ribbon and was rarely clear. I typed on striking the keys harder to get a clearer image. The electricity went out and Mom brought in a candle so I would not be afraid. I became inspired.

I crafted 16 lines of pure literary genius in all caps. It did not scan, the rhyme scheme did not work, and there was no definable tempo. There is however the heart behind it. I retyped it but still had to XXXX out a word that was misplaced. The poem was written.

The next morning, I took my carefully protected sheet and placed it in the “in” basket on her desk. To our surprise, just after the morning Bible reading, our recitation of the memorized Christmas story, and lunchroom mothers appeared with Christmas party treats and games. It was not until the last hour of school that Miss Smith grabbed the stack of poems and began, one by one to read them. It was obvious she was taking a moment to peruse each of them before reading them aloud. All of them were on Blue Horse paper. I could tell through the translucency of the paper when she had picked up mine. It was the only one that was typed.

She paused longer than most before beginning to read. She took a deep breath and her cheeks reddened. As she read the first line one tear, then another slipped down her ivory cheeks. She pressed on and read it with depth of feeling that I had not imagined my words could command. She looked up at me, and through the gentle rain of tears whispered, “Thank you, Aramis.” Lightning struck.

I realized in that moment that Miss Smith had been moved by my fumbling words. Miss Smith was weeping at what she perceived to be beauty. I had pulled the proverbial sword from the stone and the kingdom of writing became mine to command. In that moment I knew that being a writer would be an amazing thing.

Years later, after Miss Smith had mostly faded from my mind, my mother gave me a gift. It is perhaps the finest gift she has ever given me. It sits on my desk at this moment. It is a black iron picture frame. In the frame under the glass is a single sheet of Blue Horse paper. It has 16 lines of poetry and the date 12/17/67. There is also a brown stain next to the second stanza. It is the dried remnants of one of Miss Smith’s tears.

The path ahead held many painful and horrid moments for me. Miss Smith’s love and kindness allowed me to keep some small footing through the things that evolved in my life over the next years. I did not really write again until I was in the seventh grade. By then what I wrote was messy and dark. I think we will stay with the pleasant for the moment. Miss Smith deserves her own bit of fame without the shadows that lay ahead for me.

I am looking at that framed bit of Blue Horse paper and feel a longing to see Miss Smith smile just one more time. A tear to match hers is in my eye. I feel the happiness of that second grade me in a way I have not felt it for many years. The love of that woman and her love of my meager writing set the stage for me to survive the vicious storm brewing on my horizon.

Here are those lines that were so desperately and badly written by eight-year-old me.

A CANDLE MAKES ME THINK
THE FIRST STAR SO BRIGHT
BECAUSE IT SHINES XXXX
JUST LIKE THAT LIGHT
IT CAME UPON CHRISTMAS NIGHT
IT SHONE, IT SHONE
SO VERY BRIGHT
THAT THREE RICH WISE MEN
CAME THAT NIGHT.

COME YE WISE MEN,
COME, OH COME
BRING NO CANDLE
MY STAR IS BRIGHT
LIKE YOUR CANDLES
COME SEE THE LORD
BORN THIS NIGHT

12/17/68

I love you Miss Smith, wherever you are. I am forever in your debt for your love, honesty, and encouragement. If you read this and recognize me, I would love to hear from you. If we do not meet until the end of all things, I will still have a big hug and the highest regard for you. You made a difference in many lives including mine.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Every human story is part of the great story that leads to the Father getting everything back to Good.

Here are those lines that were so desperately and badly written by eight-year-old me.

Thoughts and Questions from Aramis Thorn

31 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ I Bring You Hope

30 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Opportunities

29 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Blessings

28 December 2020

Second Thoughts ~ Farewell and Hoping You are Safe at Home

Closing of the Year ~ So Many Worries

27 December 2020

Closing of the Year ~ Turn of the Tide

26 December 2020

Be Born in Me ~ Promises to Keep

25 December 2020

Be Born in Me ~ You Are Here

24 December 2020

Second Thoughts ~ A Christmas Memory

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