Let your Light Shine

Well, Advent 4 has come and already gone and the self-assigned "advent reflection" seems to have fallen by the way-side in the blogging world. After reading a comment left on my previous post drawing attention to the fact that there is more to the Advent season than simply allowing the Christ child to come to us, broken, lost and wandering really got me thinking. I do not mean to lessen the importance of our journey to the creche as Christian people and solemnly believe that it should be a time of reflecting as well as genuflecting; a time of looking back on where we have come in light of where we are going as well as taking the time to pause upon the truly incredible gift that we are seeking out on this somewhat dark night.

Perhaps I understated Fr. A's sermon notes, but do not think so. For you see, I am a firm believer that not unlike the Magi, the journey should not be perilous. Challenging, yes, but not difficult.

For the past three months, I have been working with various individuals who have varying disabilities. Some are battling through the teenage years of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Disorder, some are Manic, Bipolar, Fragile X Syndrome and some do not necessarily fit within a boxed category but cannot read, write, or function as a "normal" individual (as much as I hate the word normal). Two of the handful that have entered my life are, for lack of better description, non-verbal. Although they can tell you what they want to eat, when they are hungry, tell jokes, repeat phrases, answer short questions, and have a wicked sense of humor... they will never sit down and write a novel or be able to describe in any length, how they are feeling.

But the truly incredible thing about these two individuals, is that in speaking almost no words, are the Gabriel's of the 21st Century, heralding the coming of the Christ child.

I was awake all night on Friday, sitting in the shadows of Kristy's (name changed) living room as she paced, stomped, stormed up and down the hallway, around the dining room table and back to her room. The bedroom door must have slammed 102 times throughout the night and the bathroom door, 101. There was screaming, yelling, water-cup throwing and puzzle destroying. Although my urge was to jump up and gently guide her back to bed, I sat there. Did not speak, but just let her be. She is stressed and the only way her body can work it out of her system is through manic behaviour. Needless to say, when she finally fell asleep at 6:30 Saturday morning, I dashed off to bed to catch an hour or two before the other two ladies in the house were up and needed my attention.

There I am Saturday morning, essentially drooling. I do not function well with little sleep. The second staff showed up and took the other two ladies to finish Christmas shopping as I sat with Kristy and had a cup of tea. It's hard to not let feelings of shear exhaustion get in the way of compassionate care. It's hard not to say, "hmm - too bad. We're not doing anything or going anywhere today because I couldn't sleep last night", believe me! Kristy went off and came back with her winter boots, a fancy pair of tights, a long skirt and her winter parka.

"Shopping?"

"For what?"

"Mom and Dad and Kristy"

"You want to go shopping for mom and dad?"

"Yes please"

"Why?"

"Santa Claus is coming to town"

So, bundling up, we stopped off at the bank, grabbed some lunch and tackled the mall. At each stop, she sang the one line, "Santa Claus is coming to town" to everyone we passed. Some smiled, others ignored. The day would have been a write off if we hadn't sat and rested a while and grabbed a bite to eat. There we are, in an over crowded food court, eating the mall's sad excuse for lunch, when four carolers stood 15 feet away. They started singing "Silent Night" and two lines in, my lunch date put her burger down, and started singing.

She didn't care what others thought, I don't think she even acknowledged that there were other people there. But there was... singing loudly and beautifully. As soon as they finished, she stood up and bolted in their direction. Approaching the man on the end, she slowly put her hand out towards his. He did not even hesitate. He turned his page and took her hand in his. There she stood... swaying her hips to their singing voices, holding his hand and singing right along with them.

Standing a few feet away, my eyes began to overflow. Kristy may not talk a lot, but at the end of the day... she "gets" it. She understands what the true meaning of Christmas is and how special that little baby really is for bringing joy and love and peace and happiness into the world. And as I sit in the glowing light of these four candles, the song that comes to mind is,

"Let your light shine, for all the world to see

The brightness of your light within, the joy that sets you free

Let your light shine, to fill your nights and days

And all will see the deeds you do and give your Father praise"

Yes, at the conclusion of this Advent season, almost on the Eve of the Christmas feast... this little heart is singing The Beatitudes as loud as I possibly can. And giving thanks to a Father who has once again, reminded me what it is like when I open myself to the possibility of being touched by a child, touched by a king.