In High Places: Where I can take a longer view

We did it.  We made it out of our normal orbit and survived a grueling drive to Northern New Mexico.

We are in a lovely, very old, adobe home in Taos.  Out of all our years of coming here we have never stayed in town, always up in the mountains.

But, being here is perfect.  Everything is perfect and what we all need.

All of the sadness and all of the longing for people we no longer have with us; and all of the heartbreak I personally feel for a body that no longer answers when I call it to work and move without pain, seem blunted here.

I hope that is what my family feels as well.  Of course things are rarely as easy as all that. Both of the kids have expressed that they feel sadness tonight, on Christmas eve/ first night of Hanukkah.

But we made a decision as a family to come here and not really celebrate the holidays, as it were.   We may light the menorah one night and have our latkes but that is about it.

I would have loved to have gone to the pueblo tonight for their dance or attended a service in one of the smaller Catholic churches.

But, being here is enough for my soul and my family says they are good with just being quiet.

This is time to heal.

This is time to write.

This is time to snuggle under blankets.

This is time to read and to  reflect upon the good.

Oh, and it is time for my 17 and 22 year old children to build lewd sculptures in the snow.  I am so proud of them.  Their father has trained them to have no shame and very little in the way filters.

We are supposed to have more snow tonight.

I hope so because we want to take the kids sledding on a run we read about in the national forest.

I feel like melted butter.

That is all for now. I will  end with the image of melted butter and the relief of being melted instead of frozen solid  with anxiety and fear and pain much of the time.

I want to let the light shine.

The light shines in the darkness. And the darkness could not overcome it.

John 1. (New Testament)