When it’s not cloudy, those pinpricks of light at nightt when I look up are wonderful reminders of the vastness of our universe and of a great love we celebrate at Christmas.
A glance upwards on a clear, cold night is a great reminder of the mystery of the birth of the Christ child in one particular place in space, the goal the redemption of a race of people that populate one little globe.
When clouds cover that sight, remembrance helps, thanks to the reminders of the faithful.
The white lights that my town celebrate are also a fine reminder, whether a single candle in a window, a line that follows a roof, an outline that traces a home or an ornament, the riot of lights on a Christmas tree or a higgledy-piggledy splash stuffed in an unlikely place.
I follow a writer who says (in a response to the previous blog of mine) that a single star on top of a windmill in the countryside of our nation is enough to trigger a well of gratefulness.
And, I imagine the dedication of the magi as they followed that singular manifestation in the heavens to the place where the family of that child lived.
And, I’m also reminded of that singular first chapter of the gospel of John, verses four and five. “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome [understood] it.” [New International Version]
I’m grateful for the annual observance of the Christmas, for the spoken and unspoken promise of the season, and I hope to be true to its light.
Merry Christmas!