Over the years, as I have anticipated the season with full abandonment, I have wondered how many people have to endure it rather than enjoy it. But it occurs to me that there may be a hidden blessing in it, somewhere. As there often is.
**Try to imagine what it would be like to give birth in a place that is foreign, cold and dark, alone with a husband who knew nothing about delivering a child, going through the agonizing pain and terror of my first birth. Not everything about that season was perfect.
**
I think about the chapters of The Story, the slaughter of the innocent children demanded by a brutal king, that we skip over every year. So much pain. So much mourning that led up to the moment we now celebrate so fully.
**I think about the chapters of The Story, the slaughter of the innocent children demanded by a brutal king, that we skip over every year. So much pain. So much mourning that led up to the moment we now celebrate so fully.
This time of year is not easy for many. It is a time that rips at wounds that are trying to heal; opens memories that are placed on a shelf for the better part of a year; makes one long again for things that cannot be had back. And yet, it challenges me to look hard to find something to celebrate.
**
Which maybe isn’t a bad thing. It is a difficult thing. At moments, an overwhelming and crushing thing. But I know it is there,
the reason for joy.
I know it is there,
the reason for thankfulness.
I know it is there,
the reason for hope.
**
Remember those who mourned or who are scared or who are sad or in pain on this night. Remember that in the darkness, there was born a light.
