Chapter Thirty Eight
Do Not Disturb
Links to previous chapters: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11 Ch12 Ch13 Ch14 Ch15 Ch16 Ch17 Ch18 Ch19 Ch20 Ch21 Ch22 Ch23 Ch24 Ch25 Ch26 Ch27 Ch28 Ch29 Ch30 Ch31 Ch32 Ch33 Ch34 Ch35 Ch36 Ch37
I had finished writing the sermon for the Christmas Day service. It was brilliant I thought, very up to date and relevant to today’s world as well as reflecting on old fashioned values. I had written about Christmas Presence as opposed to Christmas Presents. A nice touchy-feely flourish! It was easy to mention the poor shepherds visiting the manger, they gifted their presence. I wondered what use gold, frankincense and myrrh would be to the Holy Infant. Three wise men’s presence just wasn’t enough on its own? I imagined our Little Horatio’s dismay if that was all he found in his Christmas stocking. I wonder if frankincense might be good for nappy rash. His mother would be plenty pleased with the gold, I’m sure. I googled frankincense. Well, that is used in perfumes and natural medicines nowadays. Apparently, it can help with arthritis. Maybe Iris would like some.
I’m relying heavily on Julia for gift buying this year. She says she enjoys shopping. I must say I find it all very stressful. But my Christmas Presence won’t lend itself to wrapping and leaving under a tree. What about myrrh, you may ask. Wikipedia says in ancient cultures it was mixed with wine to produce pleasurable feelings! Well, that’s sure to be illegal in this country. Besides, the tree that they extracted it from is not native to Australia and has a lot of thorns. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. Something about ‘the way to get pleasurable feelings involves dealing with pricks.’ I’m getting some very sacrilegious thoughts lately. Oh well.
I had escaped from our noisy household. It was pandemonium back there. Julia was wrapping presents while Michelle played noisy games with her energy filled son. He knows that Santa will be coming very shortly if he is ‘good’. He has a very limited concept of what constitutes being good. It doesn’t involve peace and quiet at all.
Sebastian the cat just cannot allow the Christmas tree baubles to remain dangling. He’s on the naughty list for sure. Hero had been madly shoving his ball at the feet of all who might throw it for him, so I grabbed his leash, and we exited the scene. We walked over to the church, making the most of the balmy summer air. Summer can be very fleeting in Blackheath. Mist and rain can appear any time, our town seems to exist above the cloud line sometimes. We are lucky if we get to wear summer clothes for more than a few days. When we do, then the threat of bushfires looms. We’re over a thousand metres above sea level up here in the Blue Mountains. That has pros and cons. Nothing however compares to our stunning bushwalks and scenic views from above, into the Grose, Megalong, and Kanimbla valleys.
I had settled comfortably at my desk in the vestry with Hero at my feet. What a haven! I was tempted to put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, aware that the Women’s Volunteer Group (aka The Flower Coven) may come to ready the church for the Christmas Services. How they love to talk! …and gossip.
It took me about an hour to write the sermon. I paid some bills and replied to a few emails. There were some snail-mail letters to deal with too. Fortunately, nothing from the bishop. I had replied to his horrible letter that we received earlier in the year. Nothing further had come of it so far. It was like an unexploded bomb. In my reply, I debated a lot of the issues levelled at us, rumours and hearsay, mischief making and ill will. But nothing, nothing will make me separate from Julia!
Such a lot of uncertainty and looming problems exist in our lives at the moment. I suppose that is true for so many people in many different ways. Will there ever be peace on earth? I don’t think so. Will I ever have good will to all men? I used to think so. I used to consider that “But for the grace of God there go I.” It has been so very, very hard to have the threat of harm over my own head and that of the family that I love. I cannot drum up empathy and understanding for a man who is driven to try to kill another person. I don’t have another cheek to turn!
Another year is ending. Mother will be visiting on Christmas Eve. She will come to church as always for all the Christmas services. Come to think of it I’d better reread my sermon to make sure there’s nothing too radical in there. I’ll be driving down to collect her. She is looking forward to witnessing Horatio’s Santa Claus experience. Mrs Hobson will be away with her brother and his family so Mother will stay for a couple of days in her room. Julia is a bit nervous about it. Michelle will be meeting her for the first time. I hope she behaves herself. Mother that is, not Michelle.
That brings me to consider the coming year. What will it bring? One thing I know is that I have made a couple of New Year resolutions. They involve plan-making. Planning how to catch a villain. And planning how to keep villainous hypocritical church hierarchy from sabotaging the best relationship of my whole life. I think a bit of myrrh might go well in the sacramental wine!