Silent Night?

What a funny paradox we live in now—the dark of the year is upon us, and yet the hustle and bustle has multiplied. While all of nature in our northern world is resting and quiet, human beings are adding more activity and stress to our lives. (And our lives often are already holding a lot of stress.) So I wanted to tell you to make some time for quiet, for the dark, for rest and stillness. But then I thought it might risk adding a layer of guilt to the whole mess. You might be thinking, “How can I find time for that, on top of everything else I have to do?”

So I won't tell you the make time for quiet. But, perhaps, you might notice the moments of quiet that accidentally cross your path. Notice the bright stars in a dark sky as you get out of your car coming home in the evening. Notice the quiet of snow over the fields on the side of the road. (Yes, snow might be coming sooner than we think.) Notice the children tucked snug in their beds. Notice the orange sunrise as you step outside for the morning paper. Notice any moment of stillness, pause, and take a breath right then and there. It's a holy moment.

Of course, there are some times in all of our lives when we, like nature in winter, feel dormant, feel like we've lost our pizzazz or creativity or energy. If you are facing such a time, rest within it—don't look at what everyone else is doing and think you're missing out. Explore the gifts within the shadows. Explore the stillness and the darkness. Nature teaches us that without dormancy, many plants can't grow at all. Human creativity is like that too. The dormancy is the gift that hides a gift. It is a holy season.