On this early morning in December, sitting in the rocker by the front window, waiting for the coffee to cool, I enjoy the Christmas tree next to me and the quiet of a still silent night.  The lights—a mix of reds, pinks, blues, greens, golds, and light yellows—shine in full splendor in the semi-dark living room. I’m the first to be up and about; the rest of the family still slumbers. Not even the dog has stirred.

I watch other early birds drive by in the darkness, their car lights gleaming the way ahead as they go towards work or school. The wheels of our multiple routines spin round and round, taking us here and there. My routine at this fresh hour of a new day allows me to linger awhile. I take a drink of coffee and look at the ornaments that, along with the lights, decorate our holiday tree. Snowmen, teddy bears, assorted Santa’s, small stockings, a miniature rocking horse, reindeer, mice and cats, and all manner of scenic and ornate bulbs hang from the evergreen boughs.

Some special ones, near the top, signify “Baby’s First Christmas”. The baby is now 23, graduated from Grand Valley State University this past spring, and going off to law school next fall. Our future Christmases will not be the same without him under our roof.

In the other room, atop the fireplace mantel is my wife’s ceramic pieces that depict the Nativity Scene. It’s been set up each holiday since our marriage. The three kings and their camels, the shepherds with their sheep, a couple of horse and cows added for good measure, and in the center, standing under the wooden stable, are Joseph and Mary gazing at their newborn child who is “wrapped in swaddling clothes and laying in a manger.” The painting of my grandparents’ farm that hangs over the fireplace has been covered with a dark blue cloth with a large star hanging in the middle of it.

Another Christmas. Another year gone by. How does that song go? … “And the seasons they go round and round, and the painted ponies go up and down.”

I THINK, THOUGH, OF OTHER LYRICS, found in the United Methodist Hymnal…

‘Cure thy children’s warring madness,

bend our pride to thy control;

shame our wanton selfish gladness,

rich in things and pour in soul.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

For the facing of this hour…

The sentiments of the song are, of course, a prayer. As prayers go, this one seems appropriate for this stretch of the holiday season; this occasion when we, individually and collectively, take stock on what has passed by and taken place and also gaze with both apprehension and anticipation at what awaits us.

Once more we’ve re-visited that notion of “Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men”, yet wars are still fought, murders and rapes still occur, domestic abuse continues to scar lives, and the overt as well as covert expressions of suspicion, intolerance, discrimination, and distaste aimed at those who are deemed as unworthy or threatening because of the color of their skin, their ethnicity, their national origin, their religious belief, or the gender of the one they love are still present. A weary world indeed, yet we ask again for a cure for our “warring madness.”

And once more we’ve retold the narrative of Bethlehem. But amid that telling of the ancient story with its austere setting, we fret about Black Friday crowds, shopping forecasts and their economic repercussions, and consumer confidence. Will American shoppers spend more money than last year? Will they buy the big-ticket, expensive merchandise in sufficient amounts?

The exchange of gifts as tokens of affection, and the delight of children contemplating what Santa Claus will bring them are part of the magic and enchantment of this season. Still, the marketing hoopla and economic hand-wringing and all of the emphasis on the trinkets and babbles seem a bit overwhelming and over-the-top. The example of the Wise Men bearing their gifts of homage has at times been taken dominance over the humble awe of the shepherds upon hearing the angel’s good news. As the hymn warns us, there can be too much interest in the material possessions at the expense of such larger gifts as the kind word, the caring attitude, and the helping hand. Perhaps, as the lyric says, we can become “rich in things and poor in soul.”

As we pause at this end-of-the-year in our personal and shared journeys, remembering those we’ve lost along the way and taking comfort with those who still with us… and as we face anew our respective tasks and challenges, pursue our hopes and dreams may we be faithful and resolute. May we have faith that each life (our own and others) has value and purpose, and may we resolve to live each of our lives as best we can, to its full measure and potential. As we face this hour and all those the follow “grant us courage, grant us wisdom.”