Winter Solstice

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day" (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

"There comes a moment when attention must be paid.... A time to embrace mystery as my native land. And silence as my native tongue" (John Kirvan)


Every day is a new life. If that be true, then every night is a new death. Is not sleep an act of faith? If it God in whom we trust to carry us through each day, then how much more is it not God who keeps us in his love, keeps us safe, keeps us breathing, all through the night?

"I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety" (Psalm 4:8).

And even if the breathing stops, we know that God will carry us through the night. And this is not a morbid reflection. Jesus said, the one who wants to save his life will lose it, the one who loses her life for me will save it. Joy comes in the morning.

So if every night be a type of death and every morning a resurrection, then tonight -- the Winter Solstice -- the longest night -- is a night when it is even more appropriate to pray the prayers of Compline or "The Great Silence" as Macrina Wiederkehr describes it in Seven Sacred Pauses.

Here are some prayers from that book:

Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; watch over us as we sleep,
that awake, we may keep watch with Christ,
and asleep, rest in his peace.

(The Liturgy of the Hours)

O Most High, when I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

(Psalm 56)

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,
all through the night.
Guardian angels Love will send thee,
all through the night.
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
hill and dale in slumber sleeping,
I, my constant vigil keeping,
all through the night.

While the moon, her watch is keeping,
all through the night.
While the weary world is sleeping,
all through the night.
O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
visions of delight revealing,
Breathes a pure and holy feeling,
all through the night.

(Traditional Welsh)

And to close, one of my own favorites, which we often sing to the same Welsh tune as "All through the night." In Welsh, AR HYD Y NOS.

Go, my children, with my blessing, never alone.
Waking, sleeping, I am with you, you are my own.
In my love's baptismal river,
I have made you mine forever.
Go, my children, with my blessing, you are my own.

(Jaroslav J. Vajda)

January 2010 Reading List

For quite a while I've been thinking it's time to return to visit some old friends. I've always been a list-maker, sometimes starting a new year with a list of 100 or more books I hope to read, figuring, "...well even if I just read half...." But the list sometimes gets lost and good intentions turn into feelings of "I should have..." and that's not healthy or productive or God's intention for me at all. So this year... maybe one month at a time. Ha. Anyway, beginning around December 27, I plan on enjoying the company and wisdom and humor of...

Seven Saints (all women) and One Sardonic Sedaris

Flannery O'Connor. A Good Man is Hard to Find and other stories
Annie Dillard. Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters
Anne Lamott. Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year
Kathleen Norris. A Cloister Walk
Mary Oliver. Why I Wake Early: New Poems
Naomi Shihab Nye. 19 Varieties of Gazelle
Alice Walker. Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems: 1965-1990 Complete
David Sedaris. Me Talk Pretty One Day

A Prayer for Chili & Cornbread

At our snow-day, Advent dinner table, after the first nibble of the cornbread muffins, and after the first complaint about them, Luke prayed, "God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food. Amen." To which Dad added, "For the chili and for the cornbread. Amen." To which Elyse added, "Even if the muffins aren't as good as the last time. Amen."

Comfort Food for a Snow Day

I am always looking for a good excuse, especially in the fall and winter, to make a really good soup. And, yes, I know, perhaps the phrase "looking for a good excuse" is a commentary on my often-too-full, often-too-fast pace of living. But snow days -- the blizzard warning for our area runs through midnight tomorrow night -- have a way of slowing us down. And I needed it.

Elyse and I made this soup together this afternoon using a recipe from Twelve Months of Monastery Soups.

Potato and Cheese Soup

Ingredients
3 tablespoons butter
2 leeks, thinly sliced
4 large potatoes, peeled and diced
5 cups water
2 cups milk
1/2 cup Cheddar cheese, grated
salt and white pepper to taste
paprika

Melt the butter in a soup pot. Add the sliced leeks and saute them for about 2 minutes on low heat. Add the diced potatoes and continue sauteing for another minute while stirring continually.

Add the water and cook over moderate heat, covered, for 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft.

Add the milk, cheese, salt, pepper, and paprika, and bring the soup to a boil. Turn off the heat and let the soup stand, covered, for 10 minutes. Serve hot.

Serves 4-6.

I couldn't find leeks before the blizzard so we substituted minced garlic and a whole white onion, chopped but not finely chopped. We used skim milk but I think 2% or whole milk would be better. Or, one cup skim and a one cup Half & Half. For the cheese I used Vermont Sharp White Cheddar. Really good!

The monks never make their soups too thick or rich. This is a pleasant mix of potato and cheese. You can actually taste the potato, not just the cheese or cream. Follow the recipe, and don't overcook.

Joy in simplicity. Just another lesson we can learn from the monks.