I awoke to the season of light, filled my lungs with the first breath of morning, looked out over the evergreens and daybreak’s crimson sky and thought how amazing it is to be here, to be alive and to live in this most beautiful place in the world. Each day, filled with hope, becomes a discernable fraction of our lives — hopefully not to be taken for granted. We are all invited to be part of this miracle of life — living and loving and breathing it all in.
What is hope? Not the Oxford Dictionary definition, but your own. What is it that you hold onto when the world feels as if it is sinking around you? What is your life raft? Where do you store hope? Some of us may find it in our faith, some in the beauty of the natural world. For others, hope is restored by spending time with friends and family.
This time of year has always been my favorite. It holds so many traditions which bring us together — as a family and as a community. We unpack the boxes of memories from year to year and light up our homes to allow for the arrival of hopefulness and peace.
When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait for the Sears Wish Book to come in the mail; the pages were chock-full of every toy imaginable. My brothers and sisters and I took turns — actually struggled — to get our hands on that catalog. We looked through it again and again until the pages were tattered. We circled all the things we hoped for, or at least I did. It was an amazing yearly event that I can still feel and smell and remember. But hope changes as we age, doesn’t it? Our closets and cupboards store all we need, and hope takes on a whole new meaning.
We have all lived through some pretty dark days. Our way of life has shifted — the things we could count on — toilet paper, paper towels, oatmeal and life itself all became uncertain. We have shifted our attention from the “Wish Book” to the “Book of Life” and we have been challenged to face the absolute beauty of life and acknowledge the finite vision of this miracle.
We are entering the season of light and of hope after this long period of darkness. Some folks continue to hurt and grieve, some remain close to home waiting for the “all is clear,” others have step by step begun to resume “life as close to normal as possible.”
Wherever we are in this process, together we amble toward this season of light. During the darkest hours of the year, when nature breathes out and tumbles us into the cold, the many cultural and religious holidays and familial celebrations arrive: Hanukkah, Christmas, Diwali, Eid Al Fitr, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice — all a celebration of light. And though they are too numerous to list, the beauty of each culture, tradition, faith and household is invited to shine.
Through difficult times we may not be ready to open the doors of our heart — yet this is the season when hope knocks fervently on that door — hope for light to be restored to our lives, where we can once again embrace, break bread together and celebrate. This is the season in which the light of hope that is born in us, shines once again. Once it is found, hope is something that can be shared with others, every season of the year, through love and support and being there through difficult times; the card, the phone call, a knock on the door, a warm bowl of soup — knowing that you can be the life raft in someone else’s storm.
So, let us open the manger of our hearts, to this beautiful season of light. Never forget that each one of us is a part of the true miracle of life. Whether alone or with others, we are invited to decorate and celebrate, to turn on those twinkly lights, take out the holiday finery, bake some cookies, watch the holiday classics, turn up the holiday music and make some new memories. Even in the darkest of days, there will always be light and love and hope waiting to shine within us — again and again and again.
Wishing you all a beautiful and hopeful holiday season!
