I went for a drive tonight. I listened to a recording of Lessons and Carols from Kings College in Cambridge, England. I turned down side streets I'd never explored, looking at the lights and following the luminaries.
As surely as if I were in a pew in a candle-lit church, my car became a sacred space. For wherever and whenever I hear the familiar words, "In those days, a decree went out from Caesar Augustus..." I am hearing it the way I have for decades, the way my family has for generations. I hear the music and it sings to my soul. O come, let us adore him. Glory to the newborn king.
I pulled into the garage, and shut off the car, and sat for a moment in the silence before going inside. On this silent night, this holy night, everything stops for a time. I did, honestly, take a moment to pray for peace on earth and goodwill toward men. Also for my loved ones and their loved ones, for all our concerns and needs.
Tomorrow the world will start again, with things to do and lists and deadlines. But for tonight, none of that matters. I, at least, will sleep in peace.