When I first arrive to work at the childcare center in the afternoon, it is still naptime. The lights are out, the window shades are drawn. A CD is playing ocean sounds, or a gentle rain. Sometimes a Native American drum and flute instrumental. Little ones are curled up on cots with their blankies. I gently take a baby from the worker I am replacing and settle into the rocker ... and just sit and listen in the semi-darkness to the rhythmic breathing around the room - and let the "music" gently wash over my soul. These few moments are mine to relish. No outside world. No outside noise, light, busyness, to-do list. I am where I belong, doing what I am supposed to be doing. Soon enough there will be glaring overhead lights, boisterous chatter, wooden puzzle pieces clattering onto the table ... but for this moment in time - a quiet, pondering time.
I imagine the blessed Mary after traveling hurriedly; not only to get to town for the census but because the baby was coming soon! Mary, finally being able to rest after giving birth. Away from the crowds. Away from the flurry of activity. From family gatherings, lines, pushing and shoving, noise. Set apart on the outskirts of it all with cattle lowing, herself softly humming to the newborn cradled to her chest. A few precious moments alone with Jesus. Starry night overhead. All calm and bright. Sleeping in heavenly peace. I can see how she would treasure these things and ponder them in her heart.
My breathing changed as I write this. For a few moments, the world stilled and I just sat in solitary thought with the Baby and His mother. Nothing else had to be done this very minute. No worries pressed in. I am where I belong. Doing what I am supposed to be doing. Relishing the awesome miracle of the birth of Christ.
Whether by Christmas tree light, or candle light, may you separate yourself from the rest of the world and "hold this Baby" close to your heart this day - and accept a little precious, pondering time.
No comments:
Post a Comment