I was up in the night and able to see the moonlight as it arched across the sky in the wee hours of the morning of Christmas Eve. Now I’m up and about and it’s foggy, but I’m heartened by brass carols, and the knowledge that the northern hemisphere where I live is leaning toward the sun again and each day will get a little longer until winter yields to spring.
Every carol warms my soul like a wood fire and reminds me that Jesus shall reign from shore to shore one day when moons shall wax and wane no more. I wish you all a quiet, blessed Christmas Eve.
