Saturday, December 26, 2009

My dear God,

I sat in the rocking chair gazing at the shimmering lights of the Christmas tree, mantle and candles burning. As I listened alone to the sacred sounds of Christmas, my front room suddenly became alive with memory. My husband sat on the hearth by the roaring fire; my family appeared all around the room, my father in the rocker and mother nearby. I could hear the happy cadence, the blending of joyful voices. I saw the tables wrapped in starched white linens with lovely crystal and china settings, a crowd of people celebrating Epiphany. I watched past Christmases unfold. All at once I was so full that my tears spilled over with joy.

How is it that such events take place? How can quiet silence make room for such merriment? How does it happen that the dead can rise for a quick miraculous moment of remembrance?

Divine Mystery Maker,
I often
find myself
in the middle
of your mystery.
I wonder why.
I think about
such things
and feel
infinite blessing
to be
so near
to you.
I can only
mutter a
few sounds
of loving appreciation
before breaking
into fervid prayer.

Humbly yours, Andrea