The Longest Night

What a banner evening: the Winter Solstice, the first night of Hannukah, and meanwhile (for we Christians) Advent marches on....

Advent is the season of preparation for observing Jesus's birth--at least I think that's the theological definition. Last year Advent had special meaning for me because I was preparing for the birth of my own child. And this Advent season she's here. This year I joined my church choir in rehearsals for our Lessons and Carols Service (it got snowed out). As usual, we worked on a number of lullabies. It's not hard for lullabies to tear at the proverbial heartstrings, but this year they have new meaning for me. I know what's in a lullaby, and it's not all sweetness and light. It's also fierce and tender, passionate and pleading (for the baby to go to sleep!), sad and fearful (that my baby will grow up and away, that hard things will happen to her). In short, this year I have a whole new perspective on the Nativity--that of a mother. No matter what you believe about Jesus, at one point he was just a baby, and his mother had no idea what he was headed for. This Advent season has reminded me of the opportunity I have every day to be present with Anneke and soak up our time together.

And, this afternoon, right before it got dark I was skiing around our neighborhood in the snow when I met on of my neighbors who said he wished he was out skiing, but was recovering from knee surgery. We got to talking and realized we lived down the street from one another. He said he and his son were stranded in town because of flight cancellations, and that his wife and his son's mother died the day after Christmas last year. All of his son's Christmas presents are back East, so he was walking to the store to scramble for something for his son to open on Christmas morning. He told me this in a sad-but-what-can-you-do way--it was hard not to be cheerful in the winter wonderland that was our neighborhood today, and he didn't seem like the kind of guy to unload on random strangers skiing down the sidewalk. We said our goodbyes, and then he started jogging way, stopping to scoop up a snowball and throw it at someone down the block.

This evening we listened to the Paul Winter Solstice concert on OPB--definitely a highlight of the season. I lit a bunch of candles for people I know--including my neighbor--whose holiday season is not all sweetness and light this year. And this year that list is longer than in past years. Not sure what the point of this post is, except that, for me, things are darker and richer this year. I'm so glad for family and community amidst the darkness in life, and more aware than ever of just how important they are.