This has been the least Christmassy December of my life.
What I mean is,
I’ve not sung any carols, I’ve not read any gospels, I’ve not seen any small children dressed as sheep and stars. I’ve not lit any candles, opened any advent calendar doors or written any Christmas cards.
And even in a less Jesus-related Christmassy sense, I only had my first mince pies and mulled wine and Christmas shopping outing this week.
I’ve barely paused between working and travelling from place to place. When I have I’ll admit I’ve spent my time in front of a screen, facebooking or watching TV with hubby or this week, with family. I’ve not had many deep conversations, I’ve not really prayed, and I have more questions than ever about what I do or don’t believe running through the back of my mind.
I don’t know what to do with those questions. If I really stopped, I’m not sure what I’d focus on. I think I’d be a bit nervous about what I’d find (or didn’t).
Last year I put together a few evenings of quiet meditation and reflection in the Cornwall House of Prayer. I missed that this year. I think it would have done me good to put everything else aside for an hour or so, to embrace silence and light and darkness and waiting. Having said that to have organised any one more thing this past month would have probably driven me over the edge.
There is a time and a season for everything.
So I won't beat myself up or worry too much about the Christmas-less-ness. Every day brings new opportunities. Seasons change. Some things remain the same. Regardless of the time of year, there are signs of hope, there is light and dark, there can be silence, there is waiting.
And in the Winter, in the season of long nights and frantic consuming and weariness... there is still beauty and peace can still be found.
What I mean is,
I’ve not sung any carols, I’ve not read any gospels, I’ve not seen any small children dressed as sheep and stars. I’ve not lit any candles, opened any advent calendar doors or written any Christmas cards.
And even in a less Jesus-related Christmassy sense, I only had my first mince pies and mulled wine and Christmas shopping outing this week.
I’ve barely paused between working and travelling from place to place. When I have I’ll admit I’ve spent my time in front of a screen, facebooking or watching TV with hubby or this week, with family. I’ve not had many deep conversations, I’ve not really prayed, and I have more questions than ever about what I do or don’t believe running through the back of my mind.
I don’t know what to do with those questions. If I really stopped, I’m not sure what I’d focus on. I think I’d be a bit nervous about what I’d find (or didn’t).
Last year I put together a few evenings of quiet meditation and reflection in the Cornwall House of Prayer. I missed that this year. I think it would have done me good to put everything else aside for an hour or so, to embrace silence and light and darkness and waiting. Having said that to have organised any one more thing this past month would have probably driven me over the edge.
There is a time and a season for everything.
So I won't beat myself up or worry too much about the Christmas-less-ness. Every day brings new opportunities. Seasons change. Some things remain the same. Regardless of the time of year, there are signs of hope, there is light and dark, there can be silence, there is waiting.
And in the Winter, in the season of long nights and frantic consuming and weariness... there is still beauty and peace can still be found.
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