And I'm not sure about you, what you're day has been like, but I am sure about me and what my day has been like. Moments of calm serenity mixed with hear wrenching tears. And the truth is, no matter how perfect a person looks on the outside, no matter how straight the hair, or how air-brushed the make-up, life is hard and has really hard moments at times. And today was a massive pile of both wonder and desert. Christmas is hard for me because I don't really have traditions. For at least the past ten years no two Christmases have looked the same. No routine, no familiar home. No annual Christmas jokes. It's different. Always different. And for someone who likes routine, the lack of it makes me feel lost. Lost and trampled.
But this baby started a tradition for herself last year, for her family, for her family of one. Midnight mass. Cause no matter where in the world I am, or what town, or what city, there will be a Catholic Church and they will have midnight mass. And I might march there alone, but it will always be there, my little tradition, my little feeling of belonging. Because there is just something about driving the streets of a city in the middle of the night. There's just something about sneaking off to Church with whole crowd of others at an ungodly hour. And there is just something about singing carols, in a bright lit room that just welcomes the Christ child day in a way that makes sense to my soul.
You should try it. Just once. Just one Christmas, and see what it does for your soul, see what it does for you. Because Christ came and everything changed, so why wouldn't we drive down to Church in the middle of the night to welcome it. To welcome him.
I'll leave you with a little Christmas blessing from North Umbria:
The blessing of Christ
comes to cave and to hillside.
His coming is mercy
and kindness and joy.
Hope is born
in this, His birthing.
Merry Christmas.
P.s. There's still time to hit up midnight mass!
No comments:
Post a Comment