And still their heav’nly music floats, O’er all the weary world . . .
Silvery bells. Glistening treetops. Dancing sugarplums. The crystal stillness of snow. The steely blue of a winter’s early dusk. Twinkling lights against a darkened sky. Bright red holly berries, and the fragrance of balsam and pine. Decorated cookies and hot chocolate with marshmallows . . . .
I love the sights and sounds and aromas of the holiday season. The richness of the images of this time fill me with delight. And wonder. The return of the light on the longest, darkest night of the year. Sacred oil that doesn’t run out. A baby born in a barn, surrounded by the earthiness of farm animals. Angels bending near the earth. A long road to travel, and a desert to cross . . .
And gifts to be wrapped. And cards to send. And special meals to prepare. And special programs to attend. Santa Claus to see. Parades happening. Caroling and cooking and guests coming and cleaning to be done and more gifts to be bought and . . .
The wonderful, but sometimes too-muchness of life.
Life that won’t be controlled according to our wishes and plans. When life is rushing by too quickly, how do we keep from being overwhelmed . . .
How do we take the time to remember that we each have our own lonely road to Bethelem to walk, that we each have a star to follow and a desert to cross . . . And angels to attend to . . .
But who wants to hear that, especially when our last nerve is hangin’ on by a mere shred . . .
What helps during this very special, this very crazed season? Being gentle with yourself and everyone around you. Following that wonderful old saying: Be kind, everyone is having a difficult time. Lightening up. Softening up. Laughter . . .
And treating yourself with heart and sympathy, and appreciating the rare and precious person you are. One of a kind. With your OWN guardian angel, who is doubtlessly “bending low” and inviting you to Come. Sit. Listen. Maybe even summoning you . . .