I admit it: I keep forgetting about the hope that comes in with the cold. Rather: I've been reading the news a lot. Is this stuff always happening, or has the world been shaking with unrest in a new way, lately? Children everywhere, such injustice, such horror taking their lives. What those children, men and women must have gone through in their last moments here on earth. It draws the breath & stops the heart to think of it. My eyes close at my own feelings of helplessness; nothing can be done from here. Every day I tune in, a new (and yet, old familiar) form of brokenness takes the spotlight. Poverty of spirit, and depravity of mind & moral seem to be winning out, ending the innocent. Right and wrong have become a matter of personal benefit; no longer is Right out to help the others. Right is ownership, a stronger hand, a louder voice, a bigger gun. Right is MY RIGHT, and not necessarily right at all. Affronts to justice are committed by everyone, and admitted by few. Humility is a lost art.
As it turns out, It is well is as ironic as faith itself. Faith is best displayed in hardship, perhaps peace is, too. The only way I can be well is when I stop trying to climb the mountains on my own. I can not move them, I can only sit humbly at the bottom, and look up. Peak to peak to peak, Hope rises like sunshine, twinkles like stars.
I was talking to my little darling a few weeks ago about space. We were talking about planets, clouds, weather. She wished aloud that the stars would be in the sky all the time, she loved them so much. I took great joy in telling her: sweetie, the stars are always there, even when we can't see them. The earth is surrounded, at all times, by little lights. The only reason we can't see them is because the sun is too bright.
If I admire anything about creation, it's this: light is always there. It changes form, and colors the morning, the afternoon, the evening, the night differently; but light is light regardless. Clouds may cover it, daytime heat may dwarf it (but even daytime heat is light), and nights get longer in certain seasons, but light, put simply, is. Always.
When I can not reconcile my heart to the mountain, I reconcile instead, to light. I take my heartache out, point to the sky, and ask it to believe again.
Wherever you find yourself this Christmas, whether in joy or question marks, look for the light in your world. It may be as tiny as a star, but it, most certiainly, is.