Captivum Solve Israel
Aunt B. has some interesting thoughts about Women and Worry. Since I live my life in an almost perpetual state of worry, I'm always halfway between relieved and regretful when I hear of others who are in the same bad way. Tim will exclaim loud and long that I look for things to worry about, but anyone with half a brain knows that isn't true. Causes for worry present themselves wherever you look. Loved ones are always riding in cars and taking showers. Close friends are always cutting bagels with knives, which is silly when they make those handy guillotine things. Honestly, the world is a fretful place.
And now it's Christmas, which means that worry is coming in extra-large "can we make it to Indiana and back in one piece" packages, all wrapped in a "will everyone like what I bought them" bow. As if that wasn't enough, we have to figure out if our churches are open on Decemer 25, and what we will call that day when it gets here.I'm fussed over writer's block and the attendant hair-pulling that comes with it, so I've spent the evening trying to table the myriad causes for worry while I indiscriminately destroy the Iroquois and Romans. (Those bastards are hogging all the luxury resources!)
I've got Mannheim Steamroller playing softly in the background to lubricate my Christmas spirit, and the beautiful latin is rapelling down the rockwall of my mood.
Veni, veni Emmanuel,
Captivum solve Israel,
Qui gemit in exilio
Privatus Dei Filio.
Gaude, gaude! Emmanuel
nascetur pro te, Israel.
Funny how right now at the big "yay, Jesus came to Earth" party time, I'm still captive Israel in my mind, mourning in lonely exile here.