Finding Joy in the Darkness

I would like to take a moment of personal privilege to say Happy Birthday to all December birthday babies! Being a December birthday gal myself, I recognize that there is something beautifully poetic in celebrating a birthday during this time of year. As a child, this balance of beauty did not come easily for me to recognize, because you see not only do December Birthday’s compete for birthday-specific wrapping paper (please do not present a gift in Christmas wrapping paper to your December birthday friends!), birthday parties vs. holiday parties, and the many combined Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday greetings, but we also recognize the shared deep significance of this time of year.

As I have grown and matured, I have come to appreciate and embrace this season, specifically the time of the winter solstice, which takes place in a profound wonder amidst the levitating bliss of it all. The winter solstice – taking place on December 21st – marks the longest night of the year, a day when darkness seems to reign. It’s a time when many of us may feel the weight of long shadows, both in the natural world and in our own lives. For those carrying grief, loss, or burdens too heavy to name, the darkness can feel overwhelming. Yet, it is here, in this profound darkness, that the light of hope begins to shine.

The Gospel of John offers this assurance: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5). This verse resonates deeply on nights like the winter solstice, when the darkness feels unyielding. It reminds us that light—even the smallest flicker—has the power to break through. The darkness cannot extinguish it.

The Longest Night Service – sometimes called a Blue Christmas Service which takes place on or around the Winter Solstice – is an acknowledgment of the tension that we live in a world that holds both darkness and light. This is not a service of easy answers or forced cheer. Instead, it is a sacred space to bring our whole selves before God—our grief, our doubts, our weariness—and to trust that even here, God meets us with compassion. These services tend to be truly authentic in recognizing that this season is not glitz and glam for all, rather this season may bring a time of tenderness, and with it, a sacred moment in time to acknowledge the darkness while kindling the light. It’s a reminder that God meets us in our honest cries.

John 1:5 anchors me in this season. It doesn’t promise the absence of darkness but declares the triumph of light. The Longest Night and Advent joy invites us to practice looking for glimmers of light in the most unexpected places. It could be in the laughter of a child, a phone call from a friend, or a moment of stillness in prayer. Often, it’s in these small moments that I rediscover the power of joy—not as fleeting happiness but as a gift rooted in hope.

As we move through this season, I’m holding onto the image of light piercing through the darkness. My prayer is that we all find joy in the small and large reminders of God’s unrelenting presence. Whether through a service like the Longest Night, a scripture like John 1:5, or a candle lit in anticipation, may we find the courage to celebrate joy—even, and especially, when the night feels longest.

As my December birthday arrives and we inch closer to Christmas, I’ll be reflecting on the gift of light—how it not only shines but transforms us, illuminating the path toward hope, peace, and joy.