By Laura Cowan
Today I lit the first Christmas candle of the season, then began my morning ritual of banging the tea kettle against the sink, dropping a spoon on the tile floor and splashing boiling water around the outside of my mug. You’d think such precision of this daily routine would awaken me (there arose such a clatter), but instead I sit squinting at my Bible, pretending to read, as a flame flickers and sputters in my peripheral- my mind and the candle, coming to life.
Eventually, I find Psalm 116: “ I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy…He turned His ear to me…”
A piney scent drifts over the table.
I read on,
“…The cords of death entangled me… I was overcome by trouble and sorrow…”
I envision twisted, knotted strings of burned-out Christmas bulbs.
“…When I was in great need, He saved me…”
Careful hands untangle the cords, change out the bulbs, set them straight along the path.
I read a portion from Isaiah: “Come, let us reason together, says the Lord…”
And a question flickers to mind: Why would the Reason for the Season desire to reason with the unseasonably unreasonable likes of me? No reason; but love.
“…though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow…”
Softly falling now, Comfort and Joy.
Not the tinseled variety, but from the Clear and Present Manger: the Evergreen Christ, Our Peace on Earth, and the only Hope of goodwill toward each other.
I’m finally wide awake from today’s morning ritual, which is no ritual at all, but reality; from Joy To The World,
Joy to this girl,
And to you.
Emmanuel means “God with us”