Wednesday, 21 December 2011


O Rising Dawn, Radiance of the Light eternal and Sun of Justice: come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

As a rule; I am not particularly afraid of the dark; in fact it has been a solace and a haven for me in much of my life. Strange noises and the suspicious shapes in the shadows tell me that there are many  things outside my imagining and they are often not to be feared. Those of you who share the experience of these periods of insomnia and broken sleep may or may not agree with me but it is in those times that I have generally got to know myself, and my God, better. 

it is in the darkness that we reveal our little selves, without embarassment or shame - we weep until our eyes throb with the saltiness of grief - grind our teeth with anguish or anger  - groan at our helplessness- for who is there to see?

In the darkness we are able to hurl our fears and regrets at what may feel like a closed door or a strong embrace. It is the confessional darkness that allows us to pretend that God may not be able to distinguish us from our daylight self full of confidence and contrived sense of control.

i wondered about the Angel leaving Mary; how, through his presence, the light of God must have burned so intensely in that room that her eyes were seared with angelfire- that the brightness allowed her to see the truth of Gabriel's message. That she really could be the mother of the God Child; for who would dare to say such a thing in the light?

And when the Angel left her; and the room plunged again into night; what were the thoughts that then began to race through her mind?  The totally rational fears of what, if it were true, she had got herself into. The enlightenment that came then was not from the worldly dawn but from a flicker of light that caught her soul aflame and reached down through the darkness showing her her strength; her courage; her perseverence that had never been revealed to her until this moment. 

Surely she could not have gone to Joseph eyes downcast;  an apology on her lips and shame in her dragging footsteps? 

From the moment of that 'yes' she was the Mother of God - God's Beloved- He was her Light. The darkness was still there - the shadow of death still hovered - but the Light; even the promise of the Light was enough - trust in the God who sees you in the darkness and the shadows - trust in the God who sometimes sends you into the darkness and the shadows - because that too is a Godly place. 



Martha at Authentica said...

I apologize for being ever late in far behind in everything. Your interpretations of "life", are thought provoking on every level. Beautifully written dear friend! Merry Christmas!

Word in the Hand said...

thank you Martha - in God's time we'll all get there :)

Barbara said...

your post reminds me that Dawn is the interface (excuse the chemical expression!) between darkness and light. at that moment, they mingle together. darkness as a Godly place ... that will stick with me.