Monday, December 24, 2007

My dearest God,

The gift came in the most unexpected way. The Christmas Eve service. We had sung our carols, listened to the holiest of stories, given our gifts to the world's children and I had invited all those gathered to join God at the manger.

The youth had brought down the aisle the holy supper, one the cup, the other the bread. I prayed in silence, lifting up these elements, these signs and symbols of God. The people started coming, one and two; I held the bread in a beautifully decorated cloth. I don't know when it happened; I just know suddenly that which was in my hand transformed me. My hands, my hands changed. I became so aware that my hands were holding the light, holding your son. My hands were the manger. And I was offering the "light in the manger".

My grip on the cloth and bread changed. I leaned in to it, looking down, blinking, feeling the sacred, divine connection, just like Michelangelo's picture where God and Human reach out and touch one another. I was holding God; I was holding you. Tears formed in my eyes. There was a hush in my soul. I was giving out the light that I was holding in my hands.

"Receive God's gift, the light in the manger", I told your people. And they came and received. I don't know what happened to any of them, but to me the light was happening to me. I wanted to drop to my knees, turn around, crawl to the manger in thanksgiving. I wanted to cry out my love to the Christ child, make my life an offering.

One man came. He knew. I saw it in his eyes. He knew I held the light. He knew. My momentary connection with God embraced this man. We knew. Immanuel, God with us.

I felt so humble, a small vessel holding the divine gift. Your son, your son. You made me the manger so I could hold your son.

Tonight I held Jesus.
I held the world's great light.
Tonight I held Jesus.
My hands,
the manger.
My heart
a stable.
Tonight I held Jesus.
I gave him
to each one
who came.
They wanted him too.
Tonight I held Jesus.
Tonight I held Jesus.

I shall never forget this night. Love, Andrea