"Each of you have the Christ Candle burning in your innermost being."
Ann: Mother Mary, I gather you have something for the blog?
Mother Mary: Yes, Ann I do. This is such an interesting time to be alive. And I don’t mean because of the political goings on, but because it is the season of Christmas, Winter Solstice, Hanukah, Kwanza, and the many other celebrations that have been created by humans to mark the passing of the dark and the beginning of the return to the light.
And yes, my son’s birthday. There are many wonderful stories describing the joy of this time of year, and his is one that continues to delight no matter how apocryphal it might be.
Yes, there was a birth, a difficult birth. Yes, it was cold, and, yes, we were lucky to find shelter, and yes, the angels stayed with me throughout the ordeal. What I remember most is the cold**, down right into my very bones, my center and enveloping that little child with ice-tipped talons.
We gathered around a small fire to keep us warm. I am sorry to say I do not remember a stable – though I love the stories of the animals and hope those stories continue to proliferate because they are true in content if not in particulars.
I knew he was different, special, but then most mothers see their children as special, and they would not be wrong about that. But there was a vibration about Jesus, an aura, to use the new age term, that warmed me at his birth and everyone he met thereafter – even those who wished him harm. They too were reacting to that warmth, to its power, to its gladness, and to its ability to draw others in into its circle.
And that, you know, is a very dangerous kind of warmth. I am coming to you today to ask that you practice offering that kind of warmth to those you meet along your way. I know that you are not Jesus, but each of you have the Christ Candle burning in your innermost being. Why not let it shine in this time of cold and approaching winter?
This is a winter of darkness, a winter of unparalleled challenges with its rampant isolation and hardships imposed by the worldwide plague and its aftermath . Now is the time to take your warmth out and spread it around.
It will come back to you – and to me – fivefold. I will be in your debt, so don’t hesitate to call on me if I can return the favour.
December 24, 2023, republished from December 6, 2020.
*Referred by Anita Sacco. See "Recommended Channelers" under "Resources" tab.**Anita can be contacted for purchase of obtaining the recipe for her protection spray or readings at https://www.etsy.com/shop/FairyTaleEnd.
**Please see comment by Janine below with reference to Christine Rossetti poem.
Thank you for your telling of the story of the night birth, freezing cold with no electricity, hard ground, we forget how unforgivingly hard daily life was for those who lived back then, with all our 21st century comforts, despite the pandemic isolation and loss of loved ones. I am delighted that you see the poetry in the inclusion of gentle animals that have lived lives of service to us, being included here, resting along the Christ child in mounds of soft and warm hay. Thank you for being so open to the way we have interpreted the birth, to offer good tidings and joy, and how we celebrate the New world with his arrival. It's wonderful to hear …
Blessed Mother Mary - I cannot imagine how scary it would be to have a difficult birth by a small fire. I had a C-section at a busy time in our hospital where so many women were giving birth that day, they didn’t have enough beds in the maternity section and had to use a surgical floor. What a gift you have given us mothers to share these details about the birth of your son Jesus. The next time I see the animals surrounding the manger I will remember that you didn’t remember them and wonder how they became part of the story. Did you ride the donkey while you were in labor? That would be difficult too.💝
Is this it? I found the hymn with words by Christina Rosetti. Here is a link to a heart touching performance by James Taylor
James Taylor - In The Bleak Midwinter
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qmtO6cebcU
So, Janine, tell me about this poem, please!
Wow. So Christina Rosetti's poem wasn't apocryphal after all.