Hallowed Hollow
There is a cave between my lungs,
A hollow where my heart should be.
But lo! our Lord an infant comes
And gives His heart to me.
It is a hard unfeeling place
Of stone and stench and rotting hay.
But lo! His virgin mother comes
To clear the filth away.
It is a dark and frigid space
Where creatures wallow in the mire.
But lo! His foster father comes
To light and tend a fire.
It is a black and hidden hole
No other is supposed to see.
But lo! The Holy Family comes
To make a home—in me.
— J. Thorp
* * * * *
Wishing you the merriest of Christmases and a blessed New Year. Know that our thoughts and prayers are with you even when we, ourselves, are not. We love you.
The Thorp Gang: Jim and Jodi; Brendan, Gabe, Emma, Trevor, Lily and Bruno
Last weekend was a whirlwind. We hosted a graduation party for our second son, Gabe, which meant that my parents, their dog, and my eldest son’s girlfriend, Becky, joined the seven of us and our dog in our three-bedroom house Friday through Sunday. The Engels—six in number, and as much family as our blood relatives—spent much of the daylight hours and a few after dark with us as well. The house was packed to the rafters and filled with laughter; the weather was wonderful, the turnout was great, and a joy was pervasive among almost everyone.
