The candleholder casts a beautiful blue light in the immediate space around my room.
I feel calm and at peace when I pray by the softness of such comforting light.
At times – when I sense heaviness upon my soul and heart, as I have many times this year – I leave my little candle on all night in a safe space. It reminds me that God is watching over me until dawn, and the darkness lifts. Likewise, regardless of what has happened to me and to you this year, the light of Christ pervades the whole of creation. We know this because nothing exists outside of Christ (John 1:1-5). He, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, is the Master who is in charge of all things.
My seemingly broken candleholder is a simple glass object. While not a kintsugi piece, it reminds me of it. If you haven’t heard about the Japanese art of kintsugi you can read about it here: 8 Lessons We Can Learn from the Japanese Art of Kintsugi. Just when you begin to believe your life cannot be repaired, something beautiful happens in the quiet of the night, when God is working on things. That, my friends, is what we must hold onto as these minutes and hours tick by until 2021 surfaces.
Similar to fragmented pottery, many of us have been shattered or outright broken to pieces this year. Certainly the entire world has been shaken up in many ways. While we may not wish to admit it, we will take a long time to heal, and whoever we will become after this pandemic will not be same as before. I know that the person I was on 31 December 2019 is not the person I am today.
I, with all of my brokenness, pains, weaknesses, strengths, good bits and bad bits, am in the process of transformation – and so are you, dear reader, whether or not you are aware of it. God is mending the cracks in you with His gold, which also comes with fire, because He wants us to be stronger and more beautiful than before.
I could have rehashed stories about 2020 but I have enough posts about that below. As we count down the hours to the new year here in the southern hemisphere, there are 2020 retrospectives aplenty on television and social media. I won’t watch them. I honour the memories of those who have died, I am grateful for the good things that happened this year – and there were good things – but I need to move on to something better – fresh, new, and different.
I seek the things that sustain me – deepening my faith, relying only on God and cultivating my personal relationship with Christ, books, singing, music, nature, and silence. From time to time I think about the things and people I have lost, and can only pray for them.
If you find yourself in a dark place and you are not sure about what awaits you in 2021, just close the door on 2020 and take one step forward. One. If that means sitting still and breathing slowly as 2021 arrives at midnight, then breathe. If it means crying or shouting in your room, then do that. If it means praying the Rosary (as I will be doing before midnight hits tonight), then pray with all of your heart. If it means missing someone you loved and cared for who cut you out of their life, then miss them and pray a blessing for them. You won’t be alone in whatever you are feeling.
Just remember one thing: turn your gaze to Christ. Only He matters.
Thank you to everyone who has subscribed and read my blog or Twitter (now X) posts. God accompanies all of us on our journey into 2021 – keep reading, writing, seeking creativity, and walking on in faith together.
Below is a musical prayer for you.
Love and blessings,
The MuSinGer
Image Credit: Candleholder – The MuSinGer