Sitting in a silent, dark room that is lit only by the white lights of a Christmas tree, I am reminded that tonight the waiting is over…
The hoped-for arrival of someone to ransom us from captivity has materialized in Jesus. One of the great gifts Jesus gives us is peace – in the midst of messy relationships, loneliness, chaos, illness, and even death, we can have peace.
This peace on the night Jesus is born comes not from having perfect lives, or really even the hope for a perfect life. It comes from having hope that even in the midst of darkness, there is Someone bigger than the darkness.
How often are we silent and still? If you’re like me, the answer is, “Not often enough.” But the reminder of Psalm 46:10 rings true: “Be still and know that I am God.” In our own stillness, we sense our smallness and we sense God’s vastness. From that perspective, we can see our need — and we can begin to understand the mystery of God’s meeting that need in the birth of Jesus.
Let’s allow ourselves on this night to be still and silent before a huge, almighty, powerful God — who in that power became a helpless baby. Of course, the irony is that true silence requires no song at all. True silence requires turning off the music, the TV, the computer (after you finish reading this blog, of course). Since turning off a racing mind is near impossible, simply bring your thoughts to Jesus, asking him to give you perspective, even on those thoughts.
Quiet our hearts, that on this silent night, we might hear Your voice… That we might be given perspective – of who You are and who we are. Wherever we find ourselves this year at Christmas, give us Your hope and Your peace. We want to rejoice in Your coming, but we know the importance of being still… Of ceasing our striving… Of taking deep breaths… Because we cannot rejoice in Your coming until we are acquainted with our own emptiness and also with Your ability to fill that void. Quiet our hearts, Lord.
Becky R, UMin Executive Assistant