Christmas Light

I have several friends who have lost loved ones and for whom this season is not as joyful as it might be for others. Many of my homeschooling friends are mourning the loss of a sweet eleven-year-old girl who passed away the day before Christmas Eve. Though I do not know them personally, so very many of my close friends have grown up with her, taken care of her and watched her grow up. Her name? Faith.

She was a little girl of great faith, and so her name is fitting. Her family and her friends have been writing about how they find comfort in the knowledge that they will see her again.

Several of my friends mourn their mothers, some their wives, some their children.

And, yet, there is a Light. It might not shine as brightly, but it is there ~ the memories, the spirit of joy, the faith, the light … it lives on in those who are left behind.

We have been preparing for the birth of the infant Jesus. We have been traveling the road with Mary and Joseph. We have been opening our hearts to those in our family and those outside of our family. We have been seeking the Light. We see lights on houses, wrapped around branches and sitting on window ledges all across the continent.

Lights in our town.

Lights in the next town over.

On Christmas Eve my girls look forward to Mass, the lit candles and seeing baby Jesus lying in the manger. There is such an innocent wonder about that ~ an innocent and unwavering belief. It melts my heart that they get excited to put baby Jesus in our nativity on Christmas Eve. It is a great joy to light the white Christmas candle on our Advent wreath. But that joyous birth is intimately entwined with the crucifixion story, for, though this baby was born to teach us how to live, this baby also was born to die. As I think of so many friends and family who are hurting this day, I cannot help but think about the hope that Christmas brings.

There is a childlike innocence to faith. There is Light and there is happiness. As we get older, there is dirt along the road, the dust gets in our eyes. The Christmas story begins to be less about the joy and more about the painful road to the cross. Our faith may wane as we face trials. Our faith might suffer doubt.  We are in good company. Didn’t the Apostles have their doubts after the man who turned water into wine and who healed the sick and raised the dead allowed himself to die on the wood of the cross?

But the tomb was empty, and faith was stronger than doubt. 

This baby brings joy and happiness and light. 

The calm of Christmas Eve Mass.

The nativity story is integral to the crucifixion story ~ and, most importantly, the Resurrection story.

We are called to be the light for others as much as we are called *to* the light. Let your heart be still this day. Light a candle. Watch it flicker and feel the warmth radiate. God is close. He holds you near.

A neighborhood near my parents' home lights several hundred luminaries throughout their streets on Christmas Eve. What a beautiful way to work together to remind us that the Light is both physically and spiritually present. It doesn't matter where you are in this faith journey ... the light begs each and every passerby to stop and look at the wondrous undertaking. We stand in awe. And, for me, this light brings hope. 

Wishing you a blessed Christmas.

Our white candle for Christmas morning.

Speaking of the Light, my neighbor brought us this beautiful rose bouquet in the middle of the -6 degree (high for the day) weather. And a friend since childhood gave me these Lularoe leggings. There are candles and flames all over them! She was so thoughtful! They are perfect! I am so incredibly blessed by all of the many men, women and children who are a Light for me! 

I am so thankful for our neighbor who brought this gorgeous rose bouquet in the midst of subzero temperatures.

My friend was so thoughtful ~ she said she thought of me (obviously my Light posts), when she saw them!