Happy Christmas People!

Dear friends, I wanted to take a moment to say thank you for gathering around the Lightbox with me this year, and I hope you have enjoyed the words and pictures over recent months.

For me, it is a real joy to post here and I would still do so even if no one was watching, but if it brings you some joy and comfort too then that's a huge bonus. I'm going to take a break for the holiday and will resume Lightbox again in due course, just in case you're wondering where I've gone. (Actually, if you really want to know where I've gone, I am under a duvet on my sofa full of cold, stuffing hot tea and Benylin into my pie-hole. Ugh! Pass me the tissues!)

Here's wishing you a rich, friendly and warm Christmas - wrap up, give each other bear hugs, and have a beautiful holiday season.

Blessings to you, until next year.

lizzie x


{Today's Soundtrack: Sufjan Stevens - Christmas Songs}

Lighthouse

What light are you shining? Is it a short-fused spark where hedonism flints against boredom, or a careful, steady flame that burns constantly through all weathers?

Consider what would happen if that light went out.

To suffer a gale against your flame is to burn vulnerably amidst the turbulent elements between you and your horizon. In this respect, suffering serves to pull focus on what you are trying—and unable—to grasp. Out of arm's reach, the lack of grip can make the desire for that vision more acute, or it pares everything back until only simple, straightforward, life-giving priorities exist.

Here is precisely the moment where your smouldering wick starts to ignite again, when you realise what you are living for and choose to stand your ground. When you do this, you not only shine in the face of your own enemy, you give light to other lost vessels whether you know it or not.

Now consider again – what must you do to make your light burn brighter?

Find your lighthouse, and take your position.

[Victor Frankl is an authoritative voice on the topic of meaning in suffering. In his current series of posts, Donald Miller offers a very accessible and sensitive introduction to Frankl's writing. Another one for the reading list!]




{Today's Sountrack: M.Ward - Hold Time}

Grains of Sand

Sand sticks. Tiny particles of ground rock and coral cling to the palm of your sweaty, salty hands. Try brushing it off but it won't leave, pressed in to your skin. Go down to the water's edge and hold your hands where a wave is about to wash up the beach, soaking your hands clean whilst more, other, numerous grains swill between your toes and get stuck there. Run backwards and fall back tripping, and now elbows are like sandpaper and grains are caught in pockets of clothing.

Lie down, head on the sand, to discover later the grains will be hidden in your scalp too, and ears, and brushed across your face. Lick salt-water off your lips; sand there also. 

Sand in every single place.

      "How precious to me are your thoughts... 

       Were I to count them, they would 

       outnumber the grains of sand."

Look up at hot sky, not hearing the sound that sand underneath you makes because it has nothing to say, except that there are thoughts about your life too many to imagine and whilst you were never meant to carry them yourself, they cannot resist you. 

No, there are many good thoughts for your life that cannot resist you.

{Today's Soundtrack: Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine}

Cardboard Cut-out

          My love for you is no
          cardboard cut-out,
          but I'll throw a pin-up
          at your feet so
          you don't forget me.



{Scott Matthews - Eyes Wider That Before}