Morning slides through the night on the dark velvet ribbon of dawn. Daybreak lurks on the eastern horizon. Tinges of peacock blue streak through the indigo sky. A deep purple aura rises.
Dawn comes late in these northern climes. Days are shorter. Night rests longer.
Winter is a time of rest. Of renewal. Of stoking the passion of possibility deep within us as we linger longer around the fires of hope, faith and love. As December 25 hearkens, images of Christmas morning to come dance a brilliant arabesque upon the imaginations of millions of children who excitedly watch the northern skies for any sign of golden reindeer streaking through the night.
Centuries ago, a child was born upon whom all mankind placed great hope. The promise of his birth awakened our nascent need to believe, to have faith, to be reborn in the image of the creator, the Divine, the one we call God, the Father.
Call it Buddah, Call it Ahura Mazda, Ek Onkar. Allah. Jehovah. Call it any name, any language and at the seat of its Divinity is the belief we are born into a world of powerful wonder.
For me, the Christmas season is the awakening of all that is wonder-driven in our world. The magic, the mystery, the mystical.
Little children believe in a jolly old fat man who is capable of circumnavigating the world in one breathless night of gift-giving. Parents take delight in keeping the secret alive, knowing that come Christmas morning their child's eyes will open in awe at the perfect gift nestling under the tree.
As December 25th draws near, schoolchildren learn the words of ancient carols, practising them again and again, their sweet voices raised high in honour of the Child who came to give them life eternal. And in the quiet of a church basement or a school gymnasium, parents hearts break open in love as they watch in wonder their children's faces lit in the glow of candles as they sing and perform in the countless pageants taking place across the land in celebration of the Child's birth that was filled with great tidings and joy. No matter our age, or faith, we are all touched by the enduring love that came to life in the story of the Christchild's birth. We are all moved by the Divine.
Christmas lurks upon the horizon. Love. Peace. Serenity descends with dawn's breaking rays and I move into my day in the belief that for today, all things are possible when I stand in awe and love.
The question is: Where are you standing today? In belief, or disbelief that you are a child of wonder, of love, of mystery? Do you stand, in love?