Advent Labyrinth Life

The light of the winter dawn creeps slowly across the dark sky like a cat stretched out long and lean as it crawls towards its prey. I lie in bed waiting impatiently for morning to come with my list already rattling around in my head. Slipping quietly out of bed I move through the morning darkness to the computer and sit and wait on God to show up.
Sitting by the keyboard is a small program for a Labyrinth Prayer Path at First Baptist. Inside are directions for drawing your own labyrinth, some questions to guide you in your journey and four steps for the experience. First step...focus, center and acknowledge the Presence. Second step...experience, observe and be attentive to the process. Third step...exit with a closing ritual while facing the center of the labyrinth. Fourth...reflect perhaps with writing or drawing to remember your experience.
My labyrinth life in Advent darkness needs these reminders of the part I play in the dawning of new light. Unlike the sun which rises on the just and the unjust alike, inner light comes only to those who seek and search for God’s presence within and without. I light the candle, I sit in silence, I read and reflect, I write waiting for God to come to me in words.
A thin band of red lights the far horizon and then scatters a red cloud patchwork quilt across the dove grey skies. Slowly, ever so slowly light comes and I lift my eyes up to the hills from whence my help comes, the Maker of heaven and earth. Thanks be to God for Advent dawns in the midst of cold darkness, light for our labyrinth lives and warmth for our bodies and souls. I am grateful for all the dawns in my life, those past and those yet to come. And when my days on this earth end, I know there is more dawn light in the life that conquers death. All is well.