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(snowdrop flowers, also known as Candelmas bells)
The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
while darkness does its work.
~Wendell Berry
Though February is the shortest month on the calendar, for me it often feels the longest. It is usually easy for me to be patient and welcoming of winter through the holiday season and January, but by February I grow tired and impatient of the cold and dark. I dearly miss the birdsong but occasionally am comforted by the unexpected solo of a Carolina wren or white throated sparrow. Because of the tardy arrival of winter sunrise, I am often tempted to wake up later, and can feel behind before my day even begins. My body longs for sunlight and warmth -- and a lightness in movement, eager to shed bulky layers of sweaters and jackets, boots and gloves.
However, the beginning of February is a potent time for the earth’ and in the Church. On February 2 we cross the midway point between winter and spring. In the Celtic tradition, this time is called "Imbolc," meaning “in the belly.” As the sun rises higher in the sky, and days slowly lengthen, the earth begins its slow shift from winter's deep rest into a readiness for spring. The ground begins to soften in anticipation of the germination of seeds. Ewes begin to lactate for the lambs born soon. Of course in our area we are still surrounded by cold and snow, but perhaps if we regularly pause to listen deeply and watch carefully, we might perceive the first movements towards light and new life.
On February 2nd, some churches celebrate Candlemas (Candles Mass) when, traditionally, all the candles for the coming year were blessed by the priest. This blessing of light coincides with the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, when Simeon holds Jesus in his arms, praising God, and proclaiming Jesus as the "light for revelation" to the world.
Reflection questions:
In the midst of signs of winter all around us, how might you give yourself time to just listen for spring's quiet rising?
What does the new life stirring in your inner world sound like?
How might you give room for this new life to grow?
How can you nurture this seedling in the fertile dark earth of your soul in the coming days?
(adapted from Christine Valters Paintner, www.abbeyofthearts.com)
Perhaps you'd like to choose a candle (maybe beeswax**) to light in remembrance of the promise of lengthening light and the new life stirring just beneath the surface (in the earth and within you. You might like to light it for a few minutes each day as an intention to listen and watch for what is waiting to be born in you, and around you.
As we all attend to the light, may we also be light for one another.
I wish you, at this season,
Peace as deep as a winter night
And joy as brave as a candle –
One candle in the deepest dark,
From which innumerable candles
Can be lit to brighten our world.
~Br. David Stendl-Rast
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