It is the darkest day of the year. There are literally fewer minutes of sunlight today than any other day all year. And … it feels dark, too.
For so many people, December is hard. They are navigating grief, brand new or a few months old. It is the first Christmas with that particular hole in the heart. They are going somewhere to celebrate Christmas with people they love but will never quite understand. They are spending Christmas alone. Maybe for the first time. Maybe for the fifteenth. The HO HO HO is hard to take. For so many, the soundtrack to December is in a minor key.
For those who find the dark days difficult, it would be nice if the sun would burst into the sky with a fanfare of trumpets and bring us hours and hours of brilliance in which to bask. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.
But tomorrow, there will be just a minute more in the early evening. The next day there will be just a little bit more. It is slow but inexorable, the return of the sun.
This is the worst day. Remember that the minor chords of Advent are not rooted in despair, but in the longing of our souls for something better.
It is winter, and it is very dark. But the light is not gone forever.
2 thoughts on “The Long Night”
So true what you wrote! I’m glad the shortest day is nearly over here in Iowa.
My brother’s birthday is on the 21st. I think of that as a turn around and face the sun kind of day. It’s like an early glimpse of spring to come once New Years comes. As much as I like the trees and lights, I feel lighter myself when I take down all the decoration and put it away making the house look more open and bright. Like an early spring cleaning. Toss in a tropical plant where the Christmas tree was and wow. We’re in the tropics. Since I don’t enjoy hot, sticky summer misery, on June 21, the day before our anniversary, I think of that as heading toward fall. There will be an end to the humidity. Just take it away one day at a time.