If there was theme for the past week, it would be light.
Monday I stayed up late (powered by a coma-like evening nap) and watched the entire lunar eclipse and a bit of the meteor shower as well. I switched off the lights in our back yard and waited as the moon got darker and darker. I've never seen the stars so clearly in Fort Worth and I don't ever remember seeing a lunar eclipse like that. The breeze and 65 degree weather were perfect, too. I sat listening to a random playlist of songs including the words moon/stars/luna/estrellas, drinking hot tea and just generally letting the last year and my future sink in. I won't say I had an epiphany, but I will say that out of the fog some shapes are starting to form. Which feels like a nice place to be.
Tuesday I basked in the glory of our 85 degree weather (in the shade!) by taking it to the park. I threw on a sun dress (on December 21st!) and went to smell the roses. Smelling the roses resulted in me barely being able to breathe by the time the afternoon was over, but it was worth it. Fort Worth's Botanic Garden is one of my favorite places and sitting in the sun after three months of cold rain was pretty close to perfect. THEN I got to watch some stars of a different kind--Dallas Stars hockey! I used to be a huge fan, and even though I hadn't seen a game in probably years, it was a lot of fun to be in the arena and see the guys beat up on one of the original Canadian teams.
Wednesday I got to get together with the girls from church and go look at Christmas lights. After the warm weather and busy last weeks, it was great to sing Christmas carols, look at lights and just generally get in the Christmas spirit.
And finally, to wrap up the week, I got to celebrate the light in a different way--in the form of celebrating Jesus coming as the light of the world. Christmas is always a big holiday for me, and a time of reflection. I love Advent, the time in the Christian calendar leading up to Christmas, which centers on hope and waiting. As a person who always seems to be waiting for the dust to settle so that I can see where the next turn in the road will take me, I can resonate a lot with a season all about looking toward the future with anticipation. And today, Christmas, is and isn't the climax of the waiting--it's both the now and the not yet. It's the day on the calendar and it's the baby in the barn two thousand years ago and it's also the reminder, or the hope, that God still cares today. It's inbreaking of the light. It's the thrill of hope for which the weary world rejoices. After all, yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Merry Christmas. And may you all be able to see the light on the horizon.
(Also, Sufjan Steven's version of Joy to the World might be one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.)