A cold, foggy morning accompanied me as i trudged along the road with my books on my back. I was passing the entrance to a rather neglected graveyard (or rather, neglected by the Council but much appreciated by the folk who sleep there, take shelter and seek solace!) and i had to stop and turn back to marvel at the awesome cobwebs laced across the ironwork of the gates. I photographed them and noticed with amusement that drivers passing in their cars were looking to see what i was seeing but failing because they were travelling too fast and the threads of the cobwebs too fine.
I wonder if i might make a connection with the Nativity. How many people missed the opportunity to pay homage to the baby Jesus because they were expecting their king to look a bit more impressive? And how often did Mary find herself giving up trying to explain to someone how she came to be pregnant and who the father was and what the baby was going to become?!
I was lost in awe at the humble cobwebs and the experience helped me through another day of revising. Others missed this precious moment and continued harrassed in their cars, spending too much money, buying to keep up with demand, losing sight of the story. Without the Nativity there would be no Christmas but without the ancient festival celebrating the Winter Solstice we would lose much of our narrative. We need to weave together the threads of nature and divine, of body, mind and spirit.
O Great Weaver of Cobwebs
bring me to my knees in wonder
stretch me on to my toes in awe
may i see You in all that is within me, around me and beyond me.
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