Abide the Winter

Dried leaves crunching under my shoes. Broken sticks blown down. A pink rose petal in a puddle.The only color in the woods, the tawny beech leaves. Spare, stark, clean and simple : winter.

The darkness comes and will reach its depth at the solstice. By then we will be looking for more brightness beyond colored Christmas lights. Windham Hill artists present a song, "Abide the Winter". Perhaps we can do more than abide it. Maybe we can poke around in the darkness of this bitter season and find bright shining objects.That is what I will do this Advent.

As I listen to the music of the above named group,  I think of a call I made today to a person that I have met just a few times.The last time was at the doctor's office where I was dreading the discomfort of a mammogram. I know Irma from church and, that day, she walked up and whispered: "I have breast cancer."This dear soul has been battling this disease off and on for years. She is now 80 and you will find no person on this earth who is more alive and joyful.And loving.It is an honor to breath the same air as she.Today, her news was good, she has stopped taking some medicine and is feeling well enough to go to church again.

As we closed the conversation, I told her about the new baby Graham that arrived last month."Oh" she said, "he must have a warm hat and a blanket", which she will make.Light.

Advent is the season of waiting for the coming. And in the rich dichotomy that my faith provides: He is coming and He is here.The Light.