Hi! Pardon the interruption. I'm sure you're busy celebrating. Me too. 'Tis the season, after all.
Pardon the interruption. But you see, yesterday I was out in the neighborhood, wading through the holiday hustle, when I came across a man--a real human--an in-the-flesh human being--in a dumpster. The Silver Bells were ringing as the shoppers rushed home with their treasures--no one seemed to notice as this real, flesh and blood human being stood, foraging, in a garbage dumpster--no cradle for his bed.
Pardon the interruption, but something tells me that's what Christmas really is--an interruption--a disruption--a break-in. Not merely an opportunity to rush home with our treasures, to glow with nostalgia, to bask in the familiar and over indulge, Christmas is a wake-up call to a repeating story: that the Divine is entering every day...maybe this time not in Royal David's City.
Maybe wherever there is no room.
Pardon, the interruption.
(c) Fiechter, 2015
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