The Light is Dancing, Even Now

Advent still holds a magic I can’t explain, though we no longer put out a nativity scene or spend our evenings in church sanctuaries. A few years ago, I felt compelled to retell the oldest story I knew, for my children who were asking.

I wasn’t prepared for the response it received when I posted it here. It was reshared, read by loving pastors to their congregations, quoted. It was never my intention, truly, to write anything for Advent. I just needed something to hold on to.

Perhaps, you do, too. So I’ll send it out again.

Wherever you are, however the season finds you, may you find that the light dances- even now.

Even for you.

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Once Upon a Time ( Because that is how all good stories begin),

 The God Creators had an idea.  

They wanted to write the biggest story they had ever written. 

They wanted to paint the biggest picture they had ever painted. 

They wanted to experience a deeper love than they had ever felt before.

And so, They went into the darkness and saw that it was the perfect place for light to dance in.

When they closed their eyes, they heard a deep breath of open sky and rushing waves. 

When their fingers brushed the horizon line, the land began to spread like moss on a great tree. 

Animals began to fill the grassy knolls and the plains and deep rivets began to fill with water. 

But they were still unfinished.

They wanted to give the new world they created a piece of their very selves; 

People like them. 

 And so, they did.  

They were a people with pieces of them.

 Filled with love and kindness and justice and mercy. 

 And so they were.  

And so they are, even still.

But over time and little by little, some of the people forgot about the pieces of God they carried.  

They were buried under the care of babies.

 The drive to consume more than they needed.

 The violence and wars.

 The feelings of fear and sorrow.

 The experiences of hunger and of anger. 

 It got harder and harder for the people to remember the pieces of God they carried within them.

To see them dancing.

 So hard, in fact, the God Creators decided they needed to do something.

They needed to do something to help the people remember about the pieces of God they had within them: 

The love and the kindness and the justice and the mercy. 

So, one of them came to visit the Earth they created. 

 He came as a baby to remind the people of their own goodness and innocence.  

And some people remembered.  

And the more He grew up, the more people listened and remembered who they were. 

 The love.  The kindness.  The justice.  The mercy.  

But some people didn’t want to remember.  

Sometimes, it is too hard to remember the someone you were, who you are not anymore. 

Sometimes it feels like too much work.

Sometimes, it feels like you were left behind.

 And the anger feels bigger than the pieces of God left in you.

The people who couldn’t remember (or who didn’t want to) devised a plan to kill the God who came to remind them.  

And they thought they had succeeded when they killed his body.

But they didn’t know.

No one can kill love.

Or kindness.

Or justice.

Or mercy.

They didn’t know that they couldn’t kill the pieces of God in them, either. 

And they began to grow, and live and thrive all over again.  

Even in sorrow.  Even in death.  Even in tragedy.  Even in darkness.

The light was still dancing.

It is dancing even now.