A year ago I wrote and sang of dimmed, and in many ways, lights turned out altogether, but more purposefully the fervent hope that one day the lights would be turned on again. It would seem that my optimism was a bit naïve in the face of a pandemic that would dominate the attention of the world for not just one year, but coming on two and beyond. It has seemed like a long, dark night, the kind when the dawn just does not seem to want to break and the insatiable longing for morning is not satisfied. Oh, there has been a flicker here and there, claims to an ending in sight, but the fog of darkness lingers still, even as we hope, pray and use the marvels of science to move our way back into the light of normal life. Nevertheless, we know of what we hope and desire to be not “If” but “When the Lights Go On Again.”

So, it looked pretty hopeful last December, I mean how could things possibly get worse? I do not want to get into, even with its many bright spots, all of the ugly that was 2020, but things have become worse.

When the Lights Go On Again…

We finally had vaccines approved and making their way across America and around the world to offer protection, but before it could provide the much needed help, millions would yet die. Then people would fight about masks and whether we should be vaccinated at all. I get freedoms, I am all about freedoms, personal, religious and otherwise, but it seems now we are arguing to argue, only to make a point, and little is being accomplished, including an end to this pandemic.

Civil unrest continued into the new year after an election season that hit new lows in divisiveness on all sides of the political spectrum. In 2021, anger and unwillingness to forgive, cooperate and set dogma aside for the common good has become the rule not the exception. Public policy is being administered on the narrowest margins and can hardly be called common consent. It would seem that people are more desiring to dole out revenge and demanding so-called justice, than offering the hand of forgiveness and providing tender mercy.

Then there are the fires. How is it possible that they just keep getting worse and worse every year? Lives lost and livelihood damaged, along with air quality that makes the Golden State more accurately described as the Carbon State.

By this time I know you are saying to yourself, “Wow, Dan doesn’t usually write with such pessimism,” and you are right, this is where it stops.

Some years ago Monica and I had the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land. In the hills just outside of Bethlehem there are caves that have through the ages been used to stable livestock. Today, many are preserved as possible locations where a child was born amidst the straw and animals that shared that place of protection from the dark and cold of a long night. It was in one such a grotto that Monica and I sat and sang with friends some of the songs of Christmas near that holy city of Bethlehem. A crèche was arranged on a rock shelf in the hinder parts of the cave where we, in light dimmed, could think on that night which was overcome by the light of a star.

In thinking on that sacred experience, I remember the words of a favorite Christmas carol, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Peacefully sung, I think of the words and melody in the hearing of my memory:

O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

As we ponder those sweet words, there is hope amid fears and light in the darkness, even a flicker. I sorrow to say that men will still quarrel and many more lives will be lost before the full light of day returns to us and this pandemic is over. Yet, it is true I know as it was in Bethlehem that night long ago, “in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light.” Light will overcome the darkness, as it did, it will again. Our hopes will overcome our fears, war will give way to peace, and mercy will prevail in a world that looks to the Light, so long as we look,… and we will look.

As I concluded last year, our hearts can be faith-filled with reasoned hope, that this time will pass and leave us more appreciative and wiser still. May the light of Christmas and this holiday season be the beginning of the restoration of the light in our lives, the dawn for which we long, unto the brightest day filled with hope, promise, peace and joy. From my family to you and yours, have a Merry Christmas. May we all humbly enjoy good health and blessed prosperity in 2022.

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Dan Malcolm is publisher of agricultural publications and hosts a weekly inspirational blog: www.MyPersonalWitness.com. He may be reached personally at ldsdanny@malcolmmedia.com.

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O Little Town of Bethlehem

1. O little town of Bethlehem,
   How still we see thee lie.
   Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
   The silent stars go by;
   Yet in thy dark streets shineth
   The everlasting Light.
   The hopes and fears of all the years
   Are met in thee tonight.
2. For Christ is born of Mary,
   And, gathered all above
   While mortals sleep, the angels keep
   Their watch of wond’ring love.
   O morning stars, together
   Proclaim the holy birth,
   And praises sing to God the King,
   And peace to men on earth.
3. How silently, how silently
   The wondrous gift is giv’n!
   So God imparts to human hearts
   The blessings of his heav’n.
   No ear may hear his coming;
   But in this world of sin,
   Where meek souls will receive him, still
   The dear Christ enters in.

Text: Phillips Brooks, 1835–1893
Music: Lewis H. Redner, 1831–1908

Micah 5:2
Luke 2:4–16