Happy Christmas

I am filled with such gratitude today. Not for the stuff–and there was some stuff–but for the people and the spirit of this day.  Last night’s service was beautiful.  That may seem boastful, but truly so little of it was me.  It was the spirit of the people that were there. It came through in the singing and the smiles and the sighs and the warmth of the greetings and the truth in people’s eyes.

When every person in the room took a deep breath and expelled it with a chuckle when the tiny baby we dedicated didn’t cry, but just stuck her perfect pink tongue out.  When the room fell to utter silence when the harp began to play.  When the children came forward to hear the ancient story of a baby’s birth and their amazement was palpable in the room. Imagine having a baby in a strange town and having nothing but rags to wrap around him!

Christmas arrived, not because I was adequately prepared or because each detail was perfect. No, it arrived out of collective longing, a unity of yearning and purpose among two hundred souls that Love be born again last night.

And it was.

And I am grateful

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