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Friday, December 25, 2009

Christmas Reflections

Debbie Shows Love, originally uploaded by use2blost.
     I think on love often. The Character of God. My Savior. Patient, kind, conveniently forgetful of my wrongs, and blindly optimistic about my character. He hopes and believes all things about me. This Friday, Christmas morning, I am thinking about love since I intend to post on it in a day or three... and I am at the Houston County detention center. This is a repeat of  Thanksgiving morning. My girlfriend's youngest son is in jail, visitation is especially important on these days and of course free ranging family and friends must be connected with also. This demanding day makes it a good idea to visit our prisoner first. I'm not even allowed back to see him (I'm not on the list...possibly because I threw the young man out of my house some time ago.)
     Thanksgiving Day I rode down with Debbie, on our way to dinner with her family, and walked around outside the jail and sat in the car as she saw her son through a piece of glass. It was actually not a terrible day for her. Her son had been in for a few days, and the shock had worn off. My Debbie is a coper, a survivor, and this young man has given her a lot of practice...the shock wears off quicker now. Thanksgiving morning everyone also expected Kalan to get out soon, so this was just something that sucked a lot, but we would get have him home for Christmas. It was not as rough as it could have been, for those of us outside. We found out later he would not quite make it home by Christmas, but he would be out by the 29th. That was too bad, and the holiday spirit at Debbie's house got a little more blue.
     My Baby loves with a heart to melt icebergs, and when something like this happens, she shoves the additional pain deeper and tries to be herself for the rest of us... other kids, grandkid, and boyfriend.
     I guess Wednesday, we found out Kalan is scheduled to remain incarcerated for several months, and Debbie's spirits plummeted. Christmas Eve was bad. Debbie has to work 7 to 7 today so I rode to Perry with my littler baby to visit her brother, providing moral support, and the gaining the pleasure of worrying about how she drives on wet pavement.
     It is cold and wet, so I am inside. Thinking about love. This is my first time in the building. The guards did not want me to take pictures, and I've been on the other side of the glass before, so I'm not gonna argue. I’m thinking about love, and wondering if Starbucks is open…Somebody that loves me gave me a 4 day job. I was broke until 4:30 Christmas eve, and would love to get some Starbucks cards for the kids, and nieces that I’ll see in a few hours. Debbie would probably love some Starbucks, later as well. Sometimes, on days like Christmas, the ER can get a little bit sporty. Debbie loves a treat like coffee, about eight hours into her twelve hour shift. I think about love as I notice the traffic, here at the Houston County detention center. Twelve people shortly after nine o’clock. Here to see their prisoner on Christmas morning. I'm thinking about drama, heartbreak and aggravation, I'm remembering Douglas John Hall- "God's problem is not that God is not able to do certain things. God's problem is that God loves. Love complicates the life of God as it complicates every life."
     I'm thinking about love and going to see my Aunt Judy in the nursing home later, and my friend that lost his job Monday because of office politics and a bad economy. I think about the baby to be born any day now... a little girl named Lily, and the puppies I suspect inhabit the womb of my bitch, Suzie. (Gotta love an unexpected litter of puppies. oops.). Love is our benchmark. Boards. The Exam for How Well You Live, or your spiritual development.
      Anytime you want to check your spiritual GPA, you just take the love test. God has left copies of it laying around all over the universe. You can find one. How well do you love? or, since that's none of my business how well do I love? This is what I'm thinking about now, back at the ranch. or back at the split-level, with the 3/4 basement and a moisture problem.
     Noun. Verb.
     The Character of God.
     Love. Exactly what the hell is it? Am I any good at it?
     Tonight I will spoon on the couch, with a tired, marvelous, green-eyed blonde, and watch a movie with a hot cup of raspberry zinger, a bag of buttered popcorn on the side. I will think about love and be amazed. I will be warm, full, and lost in a sea of drowsiness and contentment. I may snore a little, from time to time. I have it worse than many, but better than so many more.
     Who am I?
     I think on love often.

     Merry Christmas, and special blessings to those of you who stroke the traffic whore in me, with your pageviews, and the wonderful comments that make me feel honored.  Special thanks as well, to those who visit the cells, beds, and broken lives. Thank you to my brothers and sisters who have brought me a cup of cold water in the name of love incarnate.

     Merry Christmas, and thank you Debbie,
     You are patient, kind, conveniently forgetful of my wrongs, and blindly optimistic about my character. You hope and believe all things about me. You even let me write about your personal stuff. You look kinda like a really hot Jesus. You make an A+ on the Love Test baby, in every way. May your thirst be quenched.


  1. Oh, man, this is one of the sweetest, most romantic posts I've ever read. Yet it's humble at the same time. My eyes are a little wet, Chris. :D

  2. Thanks, Eva. Debbie doesn't do much of the e-verse...I'll go into her inbox periodically (lol) and delete a few hundred emails, just so she can find the ones that are mine! :). She looks at my flickr, and she has browsed the blog long ago. I think she was amazed at my weirdness...I did nothing like this, when we first met. I have no idea if or how often she comes back and don't ask. This'll definitely score me some brownie points if she stumbles over it. Baby bounces love back at it's source, like flowers with mirrored petals.

  3. BTW...I never got to do the movie-spoon thing. The oldest boy brought the grandson over, and they wouldn't leave. Little shitheads.


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