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.
I’m being reminded that the lights strung during the Christmas season are reminders that light pierces the darkness.
We need the reminder.
NASA and Google AI have found an eighth planet in a system far beyond our own, the outermost planet in an orbit similar to the our earth’s rotation around Sol. If I remember correctly, that far-away star is slightly larger than our own, so the whole system is cooking.
That whole system probably glows, filling its huge but small portion of its space. It’s signals reached us, thousands of light years away, but we had to be paying attention.
Closer to home are the white lights the folks in our little town so treasure. Some follow the outlines of the homes they light. Some are higgledy-piggledy strung, a few seemingly just flung onto a porch, a bush, a tree. Some properties just blaze with white light. Other homes and lawns eschew white lights in favor of as many garish LED strings as possible.
Whether careful or haphazard, places glow in communities everywhere during this holiday. Unconsiously or deliberately, we humans are drawn to light, whether it be pinpricks from distant stars, the warmth of our own sun’s fusion or the riot of electrically-induced orgies of glow.
I am reminded.
Just saw the movie “Loving Vincent.” If you are a Van Gogh fan, it’s a must see. Limited theatrical release. Maybe it’s coming to your neck of the woods! Here’s a link.
The arc of the story is done well, and the film incorporates animation with scenes from Van Gogh’s paintings.
“We named her Amelia,” from Hawaii Pacific Review
A scarifying non-fiction piece and so worth the read.