The grey

It has been a very colourless time here. Weather-wise I would say for the past week or so but in general, for a lot longer.

The pandemic has kept us from the colour of meeting others, dining out and enjoying concerts. It has muffled our singing, stopped our touching and kept us hidden away in general.

Maybe your life is cloaked in other versions of darkness right now- weighed down by grief, childlessness, poverty, abuse, pain or poor health in mind or in body. The usual rescuers in red and blue are worn out, stifled by restrictions or overwhelmed with the sheer, relentless amount of need.

Where has the colour gone?

I’ve been thinking about the wise men recently. They were guided by readings and learning but was the star always bright as they traveled? Were they sometimes moving in the dark, just like us now? Did they ever wonder if they’d made a mistake? Even when they looked at an unremarkable baby in a darkened manger? Even if there were some uncertainties, they still gave him the best they had and were always, often silently, led by Someone higher than the heavens.

We’re all moving in the darkness now and yet, there is still light to guide us, two thousand years later. The wise men stumbled towards it and now, living in the hope of what they found, we set one foot in front of the other and follow after.

It is so hard to walk in the dark, but others before us have left lights to guide us. I have a drawer stuffed with letters and cards of comfort and hope that give me the colour I need in my grey times.

Above them sits the Book that promises me that

The One True Eternal Light is still there to show us the way.

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