My daughter drove 1100 miles from college for the holidays. We certainly worried about her traveling such a distance, much of it alone, along what seems an endless stretch of road. The road she traveled meanders for many miles through mountains and was especially treacherous in the inclement weather of earlier this week.
Our longing and expectation to see one another again punctuate the warm flood of emotions once the person for whom we wait, finally arrives. So it was with our daughter. Her name is Kristen, a name derived from the Greek word for “Christ-Bearer.”
As she pulled up in front of the house, she was unquestionably that for us. In all our waiting, her arrival, at night in the cold air, just before the worst of this week’s first major snowstorm struck, was the arrival of light. On first seeing her emerge from her car, I was simply over-joyed.
For me, the holidays now officially could begin. Our light arrived and came in from the cold night to warm up our lives. Kristen, for us, in that moment, was the Christ. She was as he is: the One who tempers the sharp edges and dark places in our lives and makes all the drudgery and travails seem less unnerving and imposing.
One need not look far to see the proof of the Light of Christ and the Presence of the Sacred in our lives. The Beloved is right there in front of us assuming the form of the one who makes us jump for joy when s/he arrives.
I feel the same way when I hear my son’s voice on the phone. While we regret that he is so far away, on the other side of the world for the first time this holiday season, just talking with him on Skype video brings a similar excitement.
After planning a time for the call, I feel the same enthusiastic expectation and longing for it to happen. It is in those moments of anxious waiting and, then later, in the joy of seeing and hearing, that we experience the Beloved’s touch directly.
My son’s given name is Marc. The name’s origins includes the mythic character of the Etruscan God, Maris, protector of fertile land and farmers. In Roman mythology, Mars, God of War, married Venus, Goddess of Love.
He was a strong protector of the one he loved, herself the epitome of tenderness and openness to the Other. She softened Mars’ worrying intensity and anxious vigilance with the gaze of unequivocal devotion.
In like fashion, my son’s nature is that of watcher and protector of his sister, his family, and his beloved: a tenacious and uncompromising defender of what is just. He is an honest broker, who speaks truth to power, and is a passionate advocate for clear thinking and accountability.
Together, Kristen and Marc represent the two aspects of the Beloved for me: bringing peace through compassion, and finding truth through clear sight and vigilance. I celebrate them both in this season of mystical enlightenment and give thanks for my children. They add profound depth to my life, and their character, love, and presence escort me to the threshold in my embrace of the Sacred Heart.
© Brother Anton and The Harried Mystic, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.
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