This morning at 9:30 in the country to the south of us, people honoured the children and their teachers who were slaughtered at this same time a week ago with a moment of silence. In Sandy Hook, U.S.A., the a church bell rang out 26 times, one toll for each of the victims. It was a poignant moment of silence for the end innocent lives.Silence to honour those who have died, to welcome the Child of Light.
Silence.
I can only listen in the silence. In fact Alfred Brendel offers an amusing insight,
“The word silent contains the same letters as the word listen”
In Greenbush, the snow is falling straight down in huge flakes which absorb sound waves and intensifies the silence of our country home. A deep silence combined with a thick covering of white, clinging to every branch. The effect is a quiet, peaceful, pure white oasis. The though popped into my mind,
“This is a perfect spot to enter into silence but this time to welcome the child of God into my heart, and onto the face of the earth. Right now I can be an open window a portal for the Holy Spirit. One of many counterpoints of light to push back the darkness.”
I can choose to welcome new life into my darkness, my own inner depression. So I relax and let go of the burdens and allow God to carry them for me. Then I turn my eyes to the child Jesus in silent expectation, waiting to be filled with light and hope.
On the darkest day of the year, we remember death. Yet it is also Advent, the brink of Christmas, a festival of light, joy and peace on earth. Listen to the words of Silent Night and allow yourself to be filled with the Holy Spirit and become another point of light, shining in the darkness.
Silent Night
Silent night holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin mother and child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent night holy night
Shepherds quake at the sight,
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing alleluia;
Christ the Savior, is born
Christ the Savior, is born.
Silent night holy night
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.
Melanie Jean Juneau is a petite wife, writer and mother of nine children. When the words "The Joy of Mothering on a Hobby Farm" popped into her head as a subtitle for her short stories it was like an epiphany for her because those few words verbalized her experience living with little people. The very existence of a joyful mother of nine children seems to confound people. Her writing is humorous and heart warming; thoughtful and thought provoking with a strong currant of spirituality running through it. Part of her call and her witness is to write the truth about children, family, marriage and the sacredness of life, especially a life lived in God. My writing is humourous and heart warming/ thoughtful and thought provoking with a strong currant of spirituality running through it. Part of my call and my witness is to write the truth about children, family, marriage and the sacredness of life, especially a life lived in God
That’s the thing Melanie: to get out of oneself. To surrender to the snow, to the light, to the cold, to the unknown.
Your language helps the process- to get out of oneself. It is easier to do it outside or even looking outside the window. It is like I am tense and on an another edge these days, I have to keep stopping and reminding myself to surrender.
I will do just that, Melanie. I will listen to Silent Night and soak up every word.
Nice- we will be in communion with each other
Beautiful Melanie
I am so glad you like it