Let it Be

New Years Eve is, I suppose, a good time to let go of what we no longer need; to forgive and be forgiven; to make room in our hearts for whatever will help us to be more loving, more kind and more peaceful in our daily lives.

This year, I personally feel that I have a lot of baggage: attitudes that I need to change, resentments that I have held onto, fears that I need to overcome.

Years ago, we sat by the Deschutes River in Oregon, eating dinner outside while watching people float on rafts against a backdrop of the setting sun. A music concert played across the river and my heart filled with such peace, as I imagined all my troubles being carried away on the current of that river.
                                   

I think of that scene now and imagine all my emotional baggage floating down the river, as my soul is purged of its darkness, washed clean by the power of Spiritual water. Letting go...

"Letting go is like releasing a tight spring at the core of yourself; one you've spent your whole life winding and maintaining. When you let go, you grow still and silent. You learn to sit among the cornstalks and wait with God"  (Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits).

Sometimes, we have to let go not only of the negativity in our lives, but of our expectations. Things don't always go as we planned, we may have to adjust our course, to go with the flow, to let our life and the lives of our loved ones unfold according to God's plan, not ours. We may need to just "let it be" and move forward in faith that all will be well in time.

"...and when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines for me, shine until tomorrow, let it be... I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, "let it be, let it be..." (John Lennon and Paul Mc Cartney, "Let it Be")

The Christmas Star

 It is a well-known story: on a cold night, many years ago, Joseph and Mary, weary travelers who had journeyed from Nazareth to Bethlehem, searched for a place to sleep, but found there was no room at the inn. They went instead to an animal stable, where their child was born in the wee hours of the night, surrounded by barn animals.

Above the stable, so the story goes, a star shone brightly, the same star the wise men followed to find the baby Jesus. King Herod had commanded them to find the child, but they were later warned in a dream of Herod's evil intention to kill the baby.

The Christmas star, or "Star of Bethlehem", is something of a mystery. Was it a planetary conjunction, a comet, or an angelic being?

One of the theories is that it was a "Great Conjunction" of Jupiter and Saturn, which is very rare (occurring every 800 years), and appears as an intensely bright star in the night sky. The last "great conjunction" of Jupiter and Saturn happened on the Winter Solstice, December 2020. According to astrologers, this occurrence signifies the beginning of a planetary and societal shift; a period of great change.

The unique challenges and difficulties of 2020, according to the theory of great cosmic change, have been the process of our collective emotional "pain bodies" (to quote Eckhardt Tolle), being brought into the Light for healing and release. Exactly how long this process will take, no one knows for sure-perhaps years or decades, but I believe we are entering a turning point.

The last four years do seem to have been a painful period, with societal divisions leading to intense disagreements, anger and violence. Families have broken up, hate crimes have been committed and our democracy is threatened.

But we can't give up hope. It is more important than ever before to keep following the Christmas star, as the wise men did so many years ago and to refuse to allow the King Herods of our time to threaten our faith in the power of love to heal the pain of the world.

It is up to each one of us to turn towards and embrace the light of change and healing, even if there is pain involved.  Release the darkness and move forward in faith, trusting that you will be guided to your highest good. Welcome the Christmas star and don't stop believing in miracles.

If we each become a small light, we can change the world...

This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
Hide it under a bushel? NO!
I’m gonna let it shine.
Hide it under a bushel? NO!
I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
Don’t let anyone blow it out,
I’m gonna let it shine.
Don’t let anyone blow it out,
I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

-famous children's song of unknown origin

 

 

 

Simple Gifts

 The man standing outside the church door was shivering and his eyes implored me as he asked, "did I miss the meal? I didn't know what time it was..." 

Tom and I were on our way out after helping to serve meals to about 80 poor and homeless people on this December day. The doors had been locked for several minutes after the usual Sunday meal that the downtown Rochester church provided, but I could not let this man go away empty handed. I went back inside and asked for one more takeout meal. As I handed him the meal, he thanked me profusely and looked at me with kind, soulful eyes. Such a simple gift, this exchange...a meal for a look into someone's soul. My heart broke for him and I uttered a silent prayer for his protection.

We came home to our warm, cheery house with its Christmas lights, festive tree and fireplace and I thought again of this man. Where did he go?  Did he have a home?  I felt so enormously grateful for all the comforts and blessings that we take for granted, but at the same time, a deep sadness welled, for I had looked into the man's eyes, felt his suffering, and was powerless to help. I thought of the others who came in for a meal -- the woman who walks around with all her belongings in a cart and loves to sit for as long as possible, savoring the warmth and food. The man who is so polite and kind, always profusely expressing his gratitude to the volunteer servers. I always wonder about them as I pray: What are their stories? How did they get where they are in life? What can I do other than serve them a meal, offer a kind word and a smile?

I don't know the answers to these questions, of course, but maybe if I keep asking, rather than pretending I don't see as I've done before in my life, the answers will be revealed.

As we draw closer to Christmas Day and frantically try to finish all the last minute holiday preparations, I hope that each one of us finds time to pause, be silent, and reflect on the beautiful blessings that we often take for granted. My meditation for today is that our hearts would be fully opened to share the simple gifts of compassion, kindness and love, not only with our families, but with those in our communities who may be lost and alone.

Bittersweet Christmas

The tree is up and beautifully decorated, the Christmas season is here with lights and cheer. So why am I not feeling more joyful, I ask myself? Then I remember: the holidays will never be the same again...                     

Christmastime can be bittersweet for those of us who've lost loved ones. The joy and beauty of the season can sometimes be overshadowed by our pain. Grief can sneak up on you and overwhelm you at unexpected moments, because those special people who have left the earth never really leave our hearts.

My mother passed away ten years ago in January, yet I still remember our last Christmas together as if it were yesterday. The time I spent with her before she went into the hospital and never left is a very special, yet deeply painful memory. I took a leave of absence from work and stayed with her and my father at their home as she slowly died of cancer.

I decorated their home, baked cookies, and helped my mother write her last Christmas cards. I bought little gifts to give to her neighbors and the people who came by to visit and help in any way they could. We watched Hallmark Christmas movies together, crying at their sentimental plot-lines. We prayed together, which gave us some peace, but did not bring healing, something I had to learn to accept in time.

Every Advent season, I revisit those memories and find that the pain never really goes away.  It is a part of me now, woven into the fabric that is the tapestry of my life. I guess I don't want it to go away, because, I realize as I grow older, that life itself is joy and pain, dark and light, beauty and ugliness.  It's all part of the wonderful, amazing, sometimes terrifying roller coaster ride that is life.  

I am deeply thankful that I had that last month with my mother, even though it makes me sad to think of it and to realize how much I will always miss her physical presence. She was the heart of our family and her memory lives on in her children and grandchildren. Her spirit lives on forever, of this I am sure!

For all of us who approach this season with bittersweet memories, my prayer today is that we would embrace all the joy and all the pain, allowing it to flow through us.... letting go of what we need to in order to move on, but holding the best part in out hearts.

  

Waiting For the Light

 When I was a child, opening the little doors on my Advent calendar each day was so exciting! Every morning, I ran to it enthusiastically to find a new, colorful picture and a delicious chocolate. Somehow, this made the days of waiting for Christmas more bearable, as I counted down the days until all those gifts appeared under the tree.

Of course, I had no idea what Advent actually meant, except that it was a time to wait until the magical night when Santa finally came.

I re-created this experience with my own children, who were as excited as I was (we also made red and green paper chains and broke one open every day).

As an adult, of course, I have a deeper understanding of, and appreciation for the season we call Advent. The four weeks before Christmas is officially, a period of:

• Preparation
• Prayer and reflection
• Anticipation and Hope

 For me, personally, I like to think of it as a time of "Waiting for the Light". It is dark at 4:30 now and often cloudy and gray. We can't rely on the sun the way we do in other seasons, so we have to find our spiritual Light. During Advent, as we wait, we search within; we light candles to symbolize the coming of Christ; we practice silence to listen for "the still small voice" and we remain alert for signs of the true Light of the World, who is already very much with us. 

I love the symbology of the advent candles as well:

The first candle (purple) symbolizes hope, a beacon of light in a time of darkness. No matter what we are going through, personally or societally, hope gives us strength to keep going.

The second candle signifies peace and is also purple. It is called "the Bethlehem candle" because it signifies the transformative power of "the peace that passes understanding" that Jesus brought into the world.

The third candle (pink) symbolizes the profound joy that marks this time of celebration: the proclamation of the angels who said: "do not be afraid...I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people".

The fourth candle symbolizes love, the deep, abiding love of Christ for all of humanity that was gifted to the world so long ago and which we continue to try to emulate in our lives.

The fifth candle is the Christ candle, the purity of white, the color of the Light that illuminates all darkness and has the power to transform the world.

I'll be honest, recent events have me losing hope for the world and some mornings I wake up in fear for what the future may hold. But I believe there is no way forward but to keep the faith, to trust in the power of hope, peace, love and Christ to save us. 

So, each day this month, I will focus on keeping Advent in my heart and continue to wait, with joyful anticipation, for the Light to reveal itself fully.