The Last Candle


She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins. . . . and they will call him Immanuel—which means, “God with us.” – Matthew 1:21, 23 (NIV)

For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given . . . And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. – Isaiah 9:6 (NIV)

 It wasn’t a good Christmas for Henry. His oldest son had been badly wounded in the war. And it was another Christmas without his beloved wife Fanny, who died three and a half years earlier as a result of burns suffered in a fire that Henry himself tried to extinguish. The scars from the burns he received while trying to save her made shaving too painful, so he grew a beard—a constant reminder of his tragic loss.

Henry was all too familiar with grief. His first wife died at the age of 22, days after a miscarriage while they were traveling abroad. He’d buried a year-old daughter and a 20-year-old sister. His grief that Christmas after his son was wounded drove him to pen the following words: “And in despair I bowed my head, ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said, ‘For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.’”

The year was 1864. The war was the Civil War. The poet was Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Times haven’t changed much, have they? The country is still at war. Our young men and women are still being wounded. And people still carry burdens of unbearable grief, especially at Christmastime. A season that should be joyful is, for many folks, a reminder of what they have lost. 

I didn’t set out to write a column that would depress you, especially on Christmas Eve.  But I know many of you are coping with grief. Perhaps this is the first year without your husband or wife or son or daughter or mother or father. Perhaps you lost your job this year. Or you’ve received a diagnosis that has left you staggering. Perhaps in your pain you’re wondering where God is. Peace is absent from your life.

Oh, how we’d love to capture the wonder and joy and magic of that first Christmas and carry it around with us all the time! But the angels returned to heaven, the shepherds went back to work, the wise men returned to their country, the blazing star disappeared, and a jealous, insane king ordered the slaughter of all male children two and under. 

In 1872 Longfellow’s poem was set to music. Today we know it as “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” The last stanza reads: “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: ‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail With peace on earth, good will to men.’” 

What a message of hope! Even in our deepest pain and grief and despair, the last candle burns: Immanuel. God is with us. Yesterday, today, and always.

 As I light the center candle on my Advent wreath—the white candle—I am reminded that it symbolizes Jesus, your Son, who came to give us hope, love, joy, and peace. Thank you, God, for the best Christmas present of all. Amen.         

Read and reflect on: Luke 2:1–20.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

Feeling Down? Get a Light!

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Read and reflect on 1 John 1.

I have come into this world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.  –John 12:46 NIV

Ah, Christmas! One songwriter called it the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the time for sleigh bells and jingle bells, mistletoe and holly, cookies and parties, angels and mangers. Yet for all the Christmas cheer, it can also herald the most down time of the year.

For those who suffer from SAD, or Seasonal Affective Disorder, the long dark nights trigger the release of melatonin, a sleep-related hormone that can plunge them into a winter-long bout with depression. Symptoms, which can be mild to debilitating, include episodes of depression, excessive eating and sleeping, weight gain, and a craving for sugary and starchy foods. The months of January and February, for those who live in the Northern Hemisphere, are the worst. The symptoms subside in the spring and summer months.

From the fall equinox in September, when the daylight hours equal the nighttime hours, until the winter solstice on December 21, the days get shorter and the nights get longer. That’s because, as the earth rotates on its axis and revolves around the sun, it also tilts towards or away from the sun. During the fall and winter months, the Northern Hemisphere gradually tilts away from the sun, and the climate turns colder. Plants lose their leaves and go dormant, appearing lifeless until the earth tilts towards the sun again in the spring and summer months. Then what appeared dead during the winter bursts with new life, warmth and color return, and people find renewed energy and enthusiasm.

I used to joke about my winter weight and summer weight, and my tendency to want to hibernate during the long winter months. But I’ve learned to recognize the symptoms and deal with them to avoid having to work off all that extra weight when my energy returns in the spring.

The therapy for SAD is simple: more exposure to light, especially natural light. An hour’s walk in the winter sunlight, one study found, is as effective as two and a half hours under bright artificial light.

In our spiritual lives, we, too, have seasons of darkness and light, times when we lean and reach toward the Son and times when we tilt away from Him. During the winter of the soul, our spirits are lifeless and colorless. The further we get from the Son, the colder our hearts grow. We feed on things not healthy to our spiritual wellbeing. The more we consume, the more we want. It’s a downward cycle halted only when we realize what’s happening, decide we don’t want to live in the dark and cold anymore, and turn towards the Son. 

Just as the remedy for Seasonal Affective Disorder is exposure to more light, so the remedy for our Spiritual Affective Disorder, also called sin, is exposure to the Light of the World, the Son of God, Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Triune God, who left the light of the Father and heaven to come to earth and take the punishment for our sin so that we may live in the light forever.

“I am the light of the world,” the Son said. “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

“In Him was life,” wrote John the Apostle, “and that life was the light of men.”

Just like in the physical world, where’s there’s light, there’s life. Do you have that Light? Do you have eternal life?

If not, turn toward Him today and celebrate, not only the earthly birth of the Son, but also new life in Him (John 3). Celebrate your spiritual birthday this Christmas. 

As I light the fourth Advent candle, dear Lord, I am thankful that You left the glories of heaven to spread Your light in this dark world. Thank You for the light that gives life to my soul. Amen.

© 2004 by Michele T. Huey. All rights reserved