Eyes on the Light
Here we are already, a week into our journey toward the Light in this season of darkening days, waiting for the Winter Solstice, waiting for Christmas, waiting for Hanukkah, waiting for a new year to begin, waiting for transformation, waiting to understand how we are to bear our individual lights. As we come to the end of this week and prepare to begin another one, I go back to the instruction that prompted me to publish a blog: “Light your candles quietly, such candles as you possess, wherever you are.” ~ Fr. Alfred Delp, martyred in Nazi Germany, age 38
Knowing that Alfred Delp lit his candles with hands shackled in a damp, confining cell, his future uncertain, with no control of his own except his ability to bear a flame, and his trust in the breath of God, I hear a call to become a Light-Bearer in this world that is too often in deep shadows. Our mutual darkness calls us to seek the Light and, as we discover it along the way—because it is there—to notice it and to share it, both with people who are similar to us and with those who are not.
Some questions that I continue to ponder from this week are: “How will we assist the flame that is called to be rekindled, and what commitment will we make to being Light-followers so that we can become Light-Bearers?” And the second: “What do we take with us on this journey, and what hinders us that we need to leave behind?”
I don’t have all my answers yet—there is time in this season of waiting for doing what Christ’s mother did when faced with mystery: treasuring these things in my heart. I continue to rely on ancient paths, ancient guides, deep breaths and silence, the breath of God, flickers of light, and my fellow sojourners as we meet at a crossroads and choose our direction. I am grateful to each person who stops by. Blessings to you.