Don's Blog Blessed Christmas 12-25-19

In 1979 we received a handmade book from Mike Dahl. Each holiday season we bring it out for the family to enjoy. This year I am sharing it on my blog.

It is a felt covered book with hand written calligraphic text on parchment paper.

Christmas

               Incarnation: into flesh

                                   to cloth with flesh

                                   to embody with flesh

                                   to invest with flesh.

                                   The act of assuming flesh.

                                   The act of taking

                                              a human body

                                              and the nature

                                                    of man.

Icy hard cold blue winter diamond stars

    Pinpoints in blackness

          And the blackness breathing

                                         living

                                         pressing its being

                                         into every nook and

                                         cranny, every crack

                                         and crevice,

                                         searching for,

                                         seeking and finding

                                         shelter. Finding home

                                         incomes well prepared

                                                                for it.

Ice caves.

                 Dark animal caves

                       blind unseen walls

                       dirt floors and soggy wet straw

                       shit smells and misty dankness

And she walks

                       worn and weary

                       walks on and wanders

                                homeless

                                heavy

                                haggard

                                ragged and dirty and hungry.

                        Anticipating the fear.

                        Afraid of the pain

                                     and the burning tears.

                         No madonna

                         Just a woman

                                                 pregnant.

                         Just a woman with child.

                                     And so very weary

                                             so very tired.

Cave.

The cave

Waits for the moment.

                                                         Now

                                                         The time.

                                                          The moment.

Its beginning.

                           The fear.

                           The cave.

                           The black unwelcome.

                           The pain.

                           The pain into pain upon pain.

                           The tearing.

                           The cry. 

                           The scream.

                           The shriek.

The sharp shrill sudden savage sound. 

Then silence.

Then stillness.

Then birth.          Baby   

                           Child

                           The boy.

                                             The toes.

                                             The hands and eyes.

                                             The hair and feet.

                                             The stomach and

                                               arms.

                                             The legs and fingers.

                                             The ears and butt.

                                                back and rib-cage.

                                            The  shoulders                                              and penis and thighs.

                                             The nose and chest.

                                             The mouth and lips.

                                             The tiny body,

                                                                     breathing

drawing breath.

Incarnatus Est !

Incarnation.

           And the word was made flesh

           And the word was made

                Flesh and bone and body and blood.

          And god was made man

                                                  cooing, cuddling

                                   crapping, crying, bubbling

                                   blubbering sucking

                                           slobbering

                                       gurgling giggling

                                                                  God!

          And you could see Him 

                        and touch Him

                        and taste Him

                        and smell Him

                        and hear Him

          And you could tickle Him

          And you could hug Him

                and squeeze and kiss Him

                and nuzzle your nose in His

                                                   bellybutton

                and chew on His toes.

          And you could laugh at Him

                        and sing and dance with Him

                        and dream of the day when you

                        would climb trees and go

                        swimming with Him

                        and play tag

                        and have snowball fights with Him

                        and just sit

                        and watch birds

                               and just sit

                        and watch Him grow.

But for now it is His time to dream.

But for now, this night, He sleeps

      sleeps sweet dreams in the still black cave

                                                   with you.

But for now he is little more than

                                                    just here

But for now the morning sings from his slumbering

          and you laugh with the sunrise

                   as the late stars reflect prisms

                                      reflect rainbows

                                  in your rooms.

And your cave sparkles

                           shines

                                       a steady splendor

                                      a splendid radiance.

                         He is here.

I am usually speechless after reading Mike's incantation to incarnation. The text is printed in calligraphy on parchment paper and is flawless. The book ends with a personal heartfelt greeting from our talented friend and continues to empower us.

Mike Dahl was a former Trappist Monk who sold us our chalet #134 in 1976 at Innsbrook. He entered his ministry too early in life  and left it too late. He was a sensitive loving human in a world that is not always welcoming. He passed from us too soon, leaving us with a lingering sense of incompletion. We still want more of him. 

"Joy to you in the Lord at all times, once again I wish you Joy"

Don and Jan

December Twentyfifth  Twentynineteen