When I awoke this morning, the sun had not yet begun to shine on our part of the world. The moon, however, illuminated the view outside my window in a spectacular way. Hovering in the sky just above the treeline, it was brilliant and its light spilled out onto the frozen pond near our house. The ice created splendid, crackled patterns of light, a monotone stained glass effect more spectacular than the most magnificent cathedral.
I longed for the moment to last, but after a few minutes the earth rotated the night away as the sun began to rise, changing the chilly, blue-gray of predawn into warmer tones of pink and brown. A small flock of geese flew low over the tree tops, their undersides catching the light of morning rays from the sun. They were elegant in flight and gone in seconds, another passage of time I could not hold onto, could not control, could not will to last, not matter how hard I tried.
Full daylight brings its own beauty in the natural world, but it is harsher and somehow, less magical. What I perceive as imperfections -- broken tree limbs, leaves in the yard, dead and dried flower stems not yet pruned -- become visible and steal my focus.
All of this made me think of the illusive nature of Christmas. The anticipation of a single day of the year often makes us fixated on one ethereal moment, while all else pales in comparison. Yet, Christmas is but a single moment in time, and it can rarely ever live up to the hype which surrounds it. Kids will often not appreciate their gifts, disappointment can be palpable, family arguments sometimes erupt at a moment's notice, dinner might even be burned, and suddenly, the reality that Christmas is just like any other day hits home.
The key, I believe, is not to pine away for moments which are special and fleeting, while placing high expectations on yourself and others during the holidays, or any time. Embrace the moonlight, enjoy the sunrise, but love the full daylight and know that is where our lives are lived with all of the messiness, sadness and situations over which we have no control.
Remember to appreciate all the days leading up to Christmas and don't put too much pressure on yourself, and others, to be perfect. We have collectively decided December 25 is a special day, but it is brief, and it is merely a day, one 24-hour chunk of a year, like any other. Those of us who celebrate the birth of Jesus have reason to celebrate every day; December 26 will be a fine day, too.
Sister Terry, the Ozark Uncle saw that same moon at Deer Camp this morning although it was closer to day break. Some telephone lines and tree limbs made a photographic capture of the moment beyond the Ozark Uncle's capabilities. Couple of thoughts: (1) wouldn't it be nice to have a portable Frank Martin who could be pulled out of the pocket for moments like that? (i.e., take the picture). And (2) although the Ozark Uncle will benefit from this posting, the Grand-Girls' mother has an even greater need to read and ponder it. For her, holidays are approached with great expectations that will most often be followed by disappointment and depression. The Ozark Uncle will most certainly share it with her.
ReplyDelete