On This Week Before Christmas
Light and Darkness and Life
In many of my conversations about living in Scotland, the subject of weather will come up. What’s the weather like? [How long do you have for this answer?] Do you get lots of rain? [Not as much as western Scotland.] Must be nice, not having hurricanes! [We can get hurricanes if they cross back over the Atlantic, plus we get storms from the north and east.] Does it get really cold in the winter?
The answer to that last question is more complicated than you might think. Where we live, in the East Neuk of Fife, the temperature does not often get that cold. For instance, according to my weather app right now it is 43F/6C in Anstruther and it is 44F/6C in Durham, North Carolina. Even better, our low temperature today is 37F/5C, whereas in Durham it will be 28F/-2C. I lived over a decade near the Great Lakes—and 43F on December 23 does not qualify as cold!
But there are more variables than just the temperature. Durham today has bright sunshine and (I am guessing, based on past experience) a clear Carolina blue sky. In Anstruther, it has been grey and rainy all day, and the sky feels so low that you almost want to stoop over. But at least it isn’t windy today! When the wind whips over the sea, it feels like daggers straight into your bones. Air temperature is nearly meaningless: the relevant questions on any given day are whether it is sunny and what is the speed and direction of the wind.
For many of us who have relocated to this bonnie land, the adjustment during winter is not even about the cold or the wet or the wind—it is the darkness. In our part of Scotland, during this week of December sunrise occurs after 8:30 a.m. and sunset is around 3:30 p.m. On a grey day like today, you’d be forgiven for wondering if the sun did in fact come up. It feels like a murky dusk that finally deepens into a thick wet darkness by mid-afternoon.
Our short winter days are not, however, without their benefits—especially if, like me, you are not usually an early riser. To catch a sunrise in the summer, you’ll need to be up by 4 a.m. or earlier! But in the winter, I don’t need to be stationed by our window that looks east until after 8 a.m. And we often have spectacular winter sunrises, with dramatic swoops of colour that demand to be noticed and admired. I used to joke that if God wanted me to see the sunrise, he’d have scheduled it for the middle of the day. He moved me to Scotland instead.
Tuesday was the winter solstice, the shortest amount of daylight for the year. I settled into my chair to watch the sunrise … and it was a dud. It was not a spectacular display of reds and golds or pink and periwinkle. Instead, the clouds were so thick that I couldn’t see the sun break the horizon. The sky just went from darker grey to lighter grey. At least I could take comfort in the fact that after the solstice we have turned the corner and we start to gain more light! I checked my app to see the sunrise/sunset times for the next day. We gained one more minute. One more measly minute of milky grey instead of inky black. This did not feel particularly inspiring.
I was glad that this was the text I was reading for the solstice:
In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. … To all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God. So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness (John 1:1–14, NLT).
In two days we will celebrate Christmas, “when the Word became human and made his home among us.” The darkness is real—but so is the light. And the darkness can never extinguish the light. The thick clouds of Scotland can try to obscure the sunrise, but it still happens—earlier and earlier every day from now through the end of June. The darkness of our disease and pain and disappointment and failure can try to distract us from the light of Jesus’ life, but he remains full of unfailing love and faithfulness available to all. His life makes our life possible, a life that cancer cannot extinguish, a life that neither disease nor dis-ease can destroy.
Treatment Update: Walking
Today I hit a milestone in my spinal cord recovery: I walked outside unaided for the first time since May! No wheelchair! No walker! No crutches! Not even holding on to anyone! I walked from our front door to the car and from the car into my rehab appointment on my own two (notably less wobbly) feet!
Much credit to Physio David, who has me doing more exercises on a BOSU ball than I ever imagined existed. And also credit to Son Andrew, who has been my primary physio partner recently. One of his tasks to help improve my stride length (which requires more balance) is to walk in front of me when I’m striding and hold up different numbers of fingers. My task is to shout out how many fingers he’s holding up while continuing to stride. He likes to be really tricky with this—and it’s been great for my neuro rehab work. My brain is slowly realizing that my legs and feet can continue to move even when I’m concentrating on something else.
Please continue to pray:
for improvement in my strength, balance, and mobility
for my neutrophils and white blood count to rebound so that I can resume targeted therapy next week
Hark, the Herald Angels Sing
This is my favorite Christmas carol—that Charles Wesley sure could write a song (even granting that George Whitefield apparently helped him fine-tune this one). I wanted to especially highlight the third verse:
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Ris'n with healing in His wings.
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!”
I pray that you know his light and life this Christmas!
These pictures of the Scottish sky! So beautiful. And I'm celebrating with you this unassisted walk to the car and to rehab. Yahoo!
Merry Christmas to the Moffitt family from gray, rainy n foggy Webster NY! We celebrate your walking accomplishments, Heather, n continue to pray for your added strength each day! Sending our LOVE! Karen S