On the rainy early morning of the eve of Christmas eve ~ enjoying the perfect stillness before the sun rises and a busy day begins. I LOVE this time of day!
But the raindrop serenade isn’t keeping time at all with the ticking of the clock. It’s out of sync. Off the beat. And yet . . .
And yet I like it just the same because it echoes the non-sparkly, non-joyous, very real life moments that occur side by side and sometimes hand-in-hand, with this most wonderful time of the year.
In the quiet of this morning I’m reflecting on the friend whose mother, now on hospice care, clings to the remaining days of her well-lived life; the funeral just last week for a friend’s beloved father who passed quietly from this life into the next; the young couple who’s little daughter did not revive as we all had prayed for. Though this is undeniably the season of hope and joy there are many who face it with heavy hearts for as many reasons as there are twinkling lights on the tree.
Tis the season for joy and yet their their present journey has led them through the valley of the shadow. Those who grieve at this joyous time of year walk through that undeniably out-of-sync existence, like my clock and the unevenly falling rain.
What gift can we bring to the heavy hearted in this season of their unbearable grief and our season of joyous celebration? Though our most carefully crafted sentiments may fall short there is still hope of a light shining through their present darkness. The smallest of kindnesses or even our silently supportive presence may speak more than a thousand well-crafted sermons to the ones who feel no joy. Your happy heart beating in time with their broken one . . . that is Love.
Merry eve of Christmas Eve to one and all.