This is the time of the liturgical colour blue, the colour of the night sky. But it is almost the colour of pure celebration. You can see it, white and gold, approaching through the spare and longing branches.
All during the last four Advent weeks, those who approach Christmas as a holy opening have been preparing our hearts, waiting, anticipating, caught on an in breath.
All of Advent I have been more and more struck by the moment just before — the one on the edge where the ferris wheel of blue pauses at the top and from one instant to the next tips its riders into the colour of white. I have been feeling that moment of gathering into the last push before the baby is delivered; the moment when the softened cloths lie, still waiting, on the straw. The moment when silence opens, wide and immense, to receive the first cry.
This is the moment just before. Whatever is done or not done, this is the moment. Whatever is lost or found, made or unmade, hurt or healed; this is the moment just before. There is no word for this Word.
May you fall into what comes with wonder.