​​Of all the places we inhabit, church should be among the most accessible. Until disability was something I dealt with every day, I might have said we were doing pretty well. We have elevators, handicapped parking spots, railings heading up toward the pulpit. But then I spent this last Christmas Eve at my home church and I came up against a barrier I wasn’t expecting: gluten. 

​When I was a child sitting at a midnight service on Christmas Eve many years ago, a light suddenly shone through the rose window at the front of the sanctuary. I whispered in awe to my older brother, “Look… the light…” He answered, “You dummy. They just turned the street lights on.” Crushed, I accepted his interpretation for years. It wasn’t until decades later that a friend asked me, “Why would they be turning on the street lights at eleven o’clock at night?” Her question opened other possibilities. Sometimes our ability to embrace sacred moments depends on our ability to be open to them.

“Come thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free,” as the Advent hymn goes. Oh yes, these weeks are full of anticipation of Christmas! Anticipation amps up as we fill our weeks with special musical events, Christmas plays, Christmas parties and additional tasks such as shopping, baking, wrapping gifts in preparation for the holiday. Finding time to prepare our hearts for Christ’s birth is an annual dilemma.​

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