From an Email sent to Father Roger by a Former Parishioner now living in another part of the world.
As I’m enjoying the last of the Christmas “hygge” here at my dad’s, listening to the sounds of Christmas on the radio and mindfully enjoying the warmth and the peace and the colors (and the chocolate), I want to tell you about my metaphorical Christmas morning.
I got up before everyone, checked on the cookies we left out for Santa, and headed out the door for a walk. I saw the first hint of sunrise: a deep purple glow announcing that night was over. As I walked down the hill, it brightened to a stunningly vivid scarlet, awakening an unmistakable sense of joy. By the time I reached the water, the sky had faded to bluish lavender, and I found myself longing for something more.
Suddenly, intense rays of piercing gold appeared on the horizon, coalescing, growing stronger until a blinding golden ball began to rise. I could feel the warmth, but could no longer look at the brightness. On turning away, I found its warm reflection lighting up the walls and windows of the houses behind me. And even when I closed my eyes, bright images of the golden rays were there. I returned home, now in the light of day, ready to face whatever, whoever had awoken there.
So yes, Advent. It brings with it hope and the promise of joy, foretelling the dawn of glory, the coming of our Lord, who spreads the warmth and light of His love throughout the earth and gives us fortitude to move forward in our day, our year, our lifetime.
I’m sad now to leave here, but am thankful for the joy I’ve experienced, and the lessons I’ve learned for next Christmas season: hurry less, stress less, live and love more.
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