The children have been with their grandparents this week and the house is very peaceful. I find myself reciting aloud that Yeats poem: "...And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow..."
Long ago, I was invited to a Catholic church and all who remained after the Mass were to be anointed by a visiting priest. I stayed. As the elderly priest rubbed scented oil in the sign of the cross on my forehead, he asked what blessing I asked of God. I froze, unsure, but out of the depth of my heart I blurted, "Peace!"
Of course I was not asking for the sort of peace that tags along with quiet. Nor did I wish for the sort of peace that comes when swords are beaten into plowshares. Those are very nice kinds of peace, but what I desired was the Peace that floods your soul with comfort and soothes your distresses, the kind you hear "in the deep heart's core".
Innisfree, in Yeats' poem, is a heavenly retreat from "the roadway" or "the pavements gray" and just the hope of Innisfree gave Yeats peace, though he dwelt in a dark and dreary place.
We also have the hope of Innisfree to sustain us in our dark places. Our Lord of the Lake Isle is Jesus, the Prince of Peace, and he offers to each of us comfort, serenity, and (best of all) salvation. No torment is so great, no despair so complete, that He cannot bring peace to our deep heart's core.
For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
This Christmas, and always, I wish you all Peace.
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