Thank you to Jone who offered our December prompt. Click on her name to read a heartbreaking reflection on holding both Light and Dark. And then dip into the comments that follow her reflection to find links to our Spiritual Journey cohort.
I am grateful this year to have had the opportunity to accompany this thoughtful group of writers each month.
Part of me resists categories like Light and Dark. It’s too easy to drop things into one box or another. It feels too automatic to explain life’s ups and downs as periods of light and darkness. It feels trite to be told we must experience one to embrace the other. That seasons come and go. That growth means living through both and emerging wiser.
In Catholic liturgical tradition we cycle through liturgical readings every three years. As we revisit scripture we have heard over and over, we hopefully move toward the core in an ever-deepening spiral of seeking meaning.
I was returning home from a weekend of joy and celebration – a bridal shower (one of 6 in my family this year) for one of my nieces. Light. I made a last-minute itinerary change to be present to my son and daughter-in-law as they made the painful decision to say goodbye to their dear old pup. Dark. In between tears and laughter and shared memories of the incredibly good life this doggie had, my son told me: I wouldn’t trade an ounce of this pain; it’s the price of loving Ace so much.
Hurtling along at 32,000 feet I found the heart-space to marvel at the heart’s ability? desire? to hold both Light and Dark at the same time. To be so full of love –and sadness—all at once. At that moment, I did not want to think of Light and Dark needing to be serially experienced.
Can Light and Dark be present at the same time? Is there light in darkness? If our God is ever-present, I want to say yes to this. I want to believe it is our human limitations that keep us from seeing both at once.
This is how I know I have not lost my faith: my sheer longing for this to be true –my desire to know that in some other dimension, Light is present – even in darkness.
If God is anything, please let God be this.
This year –more than ever– I need this to be true.
light and dark and light
light and joy
and ribboned boughs
glitter the trees
laughter and music
falling like snow
clink and clatter
as hope buries itself
deep in my bones
carries me across
chasms of fear
nestles in hearts
melts into tears
sprinkled as blessing
heads bowed together
in thanksgiving
my Christmas prayer
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
photos courtesy of Pixabay
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Patricia, your reflections and sentiments touched me deeply. Thank you for sharing your beautiful thoughts.
Thank you, Joyce.
Yes, light is always present. A quote that gives me strength is, There is not enough darkness to extinguish the light of a small candle. Thank you for this thought provoking post.
Thank you for the quote you shared, Lakshmi.
A little saving grace….
Patricia, I agree that it is easy to categorize things as being light or dark. There are so many shades of gray in between. I think, however, that our lives are made up of contrasts: light and dark, good and evil, happy and sad, etc. Maybe because we are human and limited by our human characteristics we need these contrasts to make sense of, or explain, the things that happen in our lives.
Exactly — the contrasts…Both/And — I’m thinking about “and” instead of “but”. Where can we hold both together? How might we accept both with honesty – I experience sadness AND I am happy. I see evil in the world AND goodness. I want to live in the “AND.”
As always…moved by your reflections!
Patricia, your post brought me to a pause, then, a refelction. Your poem’s title is well thought out. How often do I stop to see when the darkness overshadows light and then light returns? It is a lifetime of finding the light when on the edge of darkness. During my chemo treatments years ago there was a good deal of darkness but hope was always there bringing light. It may have been a only a flicker but it was there because God was holding my heart together.
as hope buries itself/deep in my bones/carries me across/chasms of fear
Wow, your words settle in my heart to be there when darkness overshadows light. They will be the light from God. Thank you.
There is such great faith in knowing that something larger than us exists. I feel watching the sunrise yesterday showed me once again, I agree about putting things in boxes. Thank you for this line: Light is present – even in darkness. apologies in the tardiness of responding.