Friday, December 21, 2012

Longest Night, Shortest Day

We pray into the darkness
seeking the light
Not expecting to find it…
Hoping that it finds us.
            In spite of us.

Shortest day, longest night:
But – only for us.

For the night it is just that. Night.
                                 And the light, is just light.

It is, in fact, about us.
It is we who call the shadows such, and ourselves lost.
It is we who call the light to us, declaring we are found.

Or are we just seen.

We see ourselves more easily in the shadows than the bright light overhead.
            The human condition?
                        More comfortable with our shortcomings than our gifts?

It is true. Shadows do show more of us than the light, at times.

Shortest day, longest night.

Maybe we miss the light in our sorrow and sadness. The malaise the angst.
Are we hurt – or afraid of being hurt – again.
Do we carry it all, the pain and sorrow, as a bulwark against fear, thinking:
“Surely, no more…”

And then, no matter how much we carry,
                        “there is more…”

Even the light is not welcome,
                For we cannot bear to see the children we have lost.
                           We lift the covers to protect ourselves,
                                   only to imprison ourselves in the sorrow; the sorrow without warmth

 Longest night, shortest day.

It is the time. The day. The juxtaposition of heavens…

There is talk of a child. The birth of the one we await.
There is no talk of this child without his full story coming to mind. 

We know the tale woven with truth,
the annunciation,
the leap in a womb,
a manger,
Stars, one special…
the wise folk, 3. 

A ruler calls for the death of newborns,
                                      Hoping “to get” the newborn

 Longest night, shortest day.
From the shadows of the stable, into the first light,
of his first day,
And we smile, because our hearts smile first.

 The heart that already knows the darkness and the light – chooses Love.
                  For it knows Love above all;
It was loved into being you know,
from the first day the first cell
beckoned the beats to follow.

 How the heart wonders, it must
                  When we will learn its song..
                            When we will resound with its song..

Still, it knows that the one born in the stable,
the Love,
will die a horrible death,
loving even as he died. 

Longest night, shortest day.
It is all about such Love.
There is nothing more to seek; whether lives are short or long.  

There is no other healing power
 more than the Love of God,
the Promise of Jesus,
the Spirit that understands not boundaries of shadows
nor light
nor anything else
– just Love.
It must be trusted, we know.
              We must trust this Love
                        that fears no shadows,
                              no cold, nor the heat of the hottest sun.

There is no balm other than this Love
              that makes longest nights and shortest days;
                           darkest shadows,
                           and brightest lights;
                                   deepest sorrow or most grievous of loss… 
                                                                                                       all pale in its midst.
There is no hope other than this Love and its forgiveness,
            its patience,
                    it gentleness
                      Even when we are not,
 and its eternal presence beyond the ways we count,
the eons we study;
          or the mysteries that engulf us. 

This is the Love --the Peace that exceeds all understanding, 

The Love that seeks us – now;
and is unrelenting. 
                                                           Give in the voice says,
                                                           maybe the heart
                                                                    maybe both.

Move with the Love that created universe and more,
              ask in this way:
Come, God;
Come, Love.
Come; Jesus and Spirit;
God and Wonder;
Counselor and Creator, Come… 

             or ask another way.

And wait; set fear aside;
                and wait.

We are in the advent of Love, always. 

An advent where shadows will lose ground;
 even brilliance will lose its shine;  

for Love will surpass it all. 

As it does now.
As it does always.
(c) Creative Commons 2012 Ray Bagnuolo