Monday, December 16, 2019
All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel.’ (Matthew 1:22-23)
These are days of waiting, working, preparing … and hoping. Christmas is near, stirring hope that the holy season will fulfill its promise.
Moments come when our hearts stand in the open field of their emptiness longing for a moment of visitation, for a surge of inimitable Love to wash over and transport us into the joy and peace that fills the void within.
This season like the year that precedes is replete with noise and the restless rushing about with which we would fill that void. But in this season we are reminded that Love is the only rightful resident of that holy space.
Just so, we want … and need … to be carried away by the lights, by a song, by a poignant memory … by something … to that space deep within where communion with Love happens ... that for at least one precious moment … we might know Love … and nothing but.
It is then that we know Emmanuel. We may not be able to describe it or say much about it. The Love Who Is has a way of lifting us into the sweet silence of knowing—knowing, too, that there is nothing better or more complete than this knowledge that can never be reduced to mere words.
So the days grow near for us to gaze again at the child who bears Love’s face, to see him in the manger and watch the shepherds in their bewildered stupor, transfixed, as are we, by Mary, his mother, whose “let it be” are the greatest words a human soul can ever say, an abandonment to Love’s holy will.
And we ask, hope and wait for him to fill every void, every dusty corner of our being that we, as she, might abandon ourselves to Love and nothing but.
Pr. David L. Miller