I have not always loved the Christmas season. There have been years where the commercialization I see this time of year entirely overshadowed my joy of celebrating Christ's first coming. There have been years when I feel anything-but-joyful during the month of December. There have been years when I dreaded the busyness and stress that all-to-often permeate the American Christmas. But this year? Not so much. I have felt wonderfully joyful and peaceful, and my heart is full to the brim with hope and love, despite the challenges of the time since we last celebrated the Nativity. It's not that everything is perfect, but rather that I am able to see a bigger picture somehow, that I am able to rest in the security of being loved by an infinite God.
I had a tangible reminder of that on Christmas Eve night/early Christmas morning. My brother-in-law and I attended the Christmas vigil service at a nearby Episcopalian monastery. I am not Episcopalian by creed, so it was interesting to note the similarities and differences to other Christmas services I have attended in years past. I enjoyed gathering with seven monks and about a dozen other worshippers to celebrate Christ's coming.
