Grabbed the Sunday Globe off the porch, surprised and pleased at how thin. Few inserts, hawking wares on this quiet day.
Even the ocean stilled.
Few cars on the road as I drove to church.
Parking lots empty of all but a few wayward shopping carts.
All is calm.
The Christmas Eve pageant’s come and gone for another year. As a storyteller, it’s one of my favorite services.
Last week, thanks to technology, I saw the nativity reenacted in a small village in Romania. The angel Gabriel looking ecstatic, arms flapping as he brought Good News. One of the wise men, a teen age girl with brightly painted nails and Down’s syndrome, smiling, clutching her fancy jar, not realizing she was God’s treasure.
God must love watching The story retold ’round the world.
For sure, God Loves.
There’s a Christmas gift for all of us, tucked into the story of the woman at the well in John 4 in the New Testament.
She, no name recorded other than Samaritan woman, meets the baby from the manger, all grown-up.
She, married five times, living with another man, heads to the well to draw water.
Or was it this man sitting by the well, who called her by name?
She, dying of thirst, receives the Living Water Christ offers and Christmas comes in a gulp to a well-worn woman.
We all have wells…places we’d rather not revisit. Places of shame, blame, fear, dread, confusion.
Thirsty for more in life, we wait and hope.
Good News; God’s Christmas isn’t staked to a date.
Christmas is God coming to us in our bleakest midwinters, bringing new names, fresh starts wrapped in Grace.
The Blessing of Bethlehem waits at our wells.
“Let us now go even unto Bethlehem…”
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