When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” He said to him, “I will come and cure him.—Matthew 8: 5-6
December has arrived in darkness, well before the winter solstice, but Susie and I sit in our chair this morning while a chilling rain descends outside. It’s only the beginning of the month and the dreaded descend–December, darkness and fill-in-the-blank.
Amidst all of the holiday ho-ho-ho’s, everyone dreads something in December–quite often just the opposite. Family get togethers. Loneliness. Frenzied shopping. Not being able to buy enough. Illness. Hopelessness. Too many party invitations. One too many hangovers.
Christmas, Chanukah and Divali, all holidays of light, cut through our human darkness.
Sitting in my chair prayer with Susie on this dark December morn I remember many winters. Some draped in tinsel, others wrapped in sadness and one sitting next to my first husband’s hospice bed. Each culminated in grace.
Decembers come and go. How we celebrate them depends on how much hope and faith we place into the darkness.
Light a candle to extinguish the darkness and discourage that dread.
