This has been an unusual Christmas season. I’ve been busy, all with good things, distracted by rehearsals and all that comes with a performer, and so painfully overwhelmed with the happenings in Connecticut.
I sat in a silent house recently, staring into the lights of the Christmas tree, Rowan finally hushed and asleep next to me. There I sat, almost all alone. The lists of things I so badly wished I had energy to get up and accomplish, tidy up, and fold and put away cluttered the moment sitting there. As the intensity of that particular day finally rested on my mind and worn body, I sobbed.
As I did, I looked down on my peacefully sleeping son. Wrapped in warmth, there he lay. For the first time, I looked down at my babe child and wondered what Mary must have felt, the burdens she carried and the peace that lay near her. The words to this song flooded my mind:
What Child is this who, laid to rest On Mary’s lap is sleeping? Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet, While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King, Whom shepherds guard and Angels sing;
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud, The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Why lies He in such mean estate, Where ox and ass are feeding? Good Christians, fear, for sinners here The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through, The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh, The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh, Come peasant, king to own Him; The King of kings salvation brings, Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise a song on high, The virgin sings her lullaby. Joy, joy for Christ is born, The Babe, the Son of Mary.
And in those words, I felt the real meaning of the season and why I can feel hope despite such tragedy, and peace amidst chaos. I could see more clearly why we sew and bake and sit together as a family at night and why we want it to feel special this time of year.
The birth of one meek and lowly child has changed the world forever.
I wish for you a very special, most meaningful Christmas season with your loved ones.
the sleepy time gal