I love getting up in the wee hours of Christmas morning. I am an early bird after all, but more than that there is something very different about this morning. It's as if a deep, deep, quiet descends on the streets. We have lived in the country and now we live in the middle of a huge city, but it's the same. Quiet.
It's almost like the earth, having got it's noisy tenants finally to quiet down, has an opportunity to worship. Just sitting listening to that quiet after the weeks of scramble and the weeks of busyness, there is just a hint of the deeper meaning of Christmas.
I'm not one to complain about the commercialism of Christmas, I have always believed that everyone celebrates the Christmas of their own making. Joe and I participate in the shopping and the 'do you think she will like this' agonizing. But we also participate in the worshipfulness called for - the mere idea of a powerful God becoming a vulnerable child - astonshes. I am not an Onward Christian Soldier - my God does not wear camo.
So in a few minutes, I will go back to bed. I used to pray during this quiet time but I stopped that a few years ago. I kinda felt like one of those annoying students who showed up early to class to corner time alone with the teacher. It was quiet for heaven sake, given the state of the world, I thought, God could do with a few moments silence. So instead I sit with him. And let my presence thank Him for his company through another year, his support over the months, his daily walk with me.