It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
As the snow falls softly outside my window—or perhaps the rain patters in your corner of the world—Christmas arrives like a quiet rebellion against the chaos we’ve all endured. In these pages of Shrew Views, we’ve clawed through the illusions of the past few years: the masks that hid faces and truths alike, the narratives that divided us into sheep and shrews, the slow boil of control that threatened to erode our very humanity. Yet here we are, at the hearth of the holiday season, reminded that even in a confused world, hope flickers like a candle in the dark.
Hope—that elusive spark in the soul, isn’t blind optimism. It’s the piercing gaze that sees through deception and still chooses to believe in something greater. In the archetype of Christmas, we find it embodied—not in the glittering consumerism that bombards us, but in the simple, profound story of a child born in a manger. He is the true focus of this day; Jesus wasn’t a conqueror with armies or agendas. He was vulnerability incarnate: a baby in a world of empires, teaching love that defies power and forgiveness that unravels fear. In our modern frenzy, we’ve often lost sight of Him amid the tinsel and turmoil. But let’s reclaim that essence. Jesus’ message was one of radical hope—turning the other cheek not out of weakness, but from a strength that sees the divine spark in every soul, shrew or sheep.
And oh, the love! Christmas calls us back to it, urging us to gather with family, those bonds that weather storms. In my years as a psychotherapist, I’ve seen how isolation—whether from lockdowns, ideological divides, or psychological traumas—dims the human spirit. Yet family, in its messy, beautiful reality, reignites it. Around the table, sharing stories and laughter, we remember we’re not alone in this dance of existence. Love isn’t just sentiment; it’s the defiant act of connection in a world pushing us apart. Whether your family is blood or chosen, let this day be a testament to that enduring thread.
To my fellow shrews, those sharp-eyed seekers who’ve pierced the veils with me: thank you for your unyielding pursuit of truth. You’ve commented, shared, and sparked defiance, making our pack unbreakable. And to the sheep among us—those still grazing in the pastures of mainstream comfort—I extend the same warmth. We’re all human, after all, navigating the same shadows. May this Christmas soften divides, inviting us all to question, to love, to hope anew.
As we unwrap gifts or simply unwrap our hearts, let’s honour the Christ child who came not to divide, but to unite in love. Merry Christmas, dear friends—shrews and sheep alike. May your holidays be filled with peace, your families with joy, and your spirits with the unmasked truth that light always overcomes darkness.
With gratitude, love, and hope, Todd Hayen
Here's to hope then Doctor, and nurturing that fragile flame in the dark on this most encouraging of days:
"Christ is the humility of God embodied in human nature; the Eternal Love humbling itself, clothing itself in the garb of meekness and gentleness, to win and serve and save us.
And for thanks we nailed Him to the cross, and in His agony he looked down at us - denying Him, abandoning Him, and betraying Him - and in the greatest act of love in history, He said, ‘Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing.’
He shed tears for those that shed His blood. Jesus was God and man in one person, tortured to utmost agony, and crying for us while dying for us, so that, far beyond the eve of Adam’s sin, God and man might reconcile and unite together again.
It is for these reasons that no one else holds or has held the place in the heart of the world which Jesus holds. While other gods may have been as devoutly worshiped, no other man has been so devoutly loved." —Bridged Quotes from Various Authors
God gave Jesus eternally to us and this gift is the greatest Christmas gift ever given. But Christ is ours to take or leave, as we are all innkeepers who get to choose whether there is room enough for Jesus in our hearts. So the question is, will you take the Son?
Who Will Take the Son, By Unknown [Modified]
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had nearly everything in their gallery, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often spend hours together admiring and discussing the stunning compositions before them.
One day the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while saving another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only child.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood there with a large gleaming package in his hands. He said, “Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in his heart. In his shock his death was painless.
He often spoke about you and your shared love of art.” The young man brought forward his hands. “I know it isn’t much. I’m not a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.”
The father unwrapped the parcel. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. The father stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his lost future on the canvas. The father was so drawn to his son’s eyes that his own eyes welled with tears. His throat seized. He thanked the young man as best he could and, nearly choking, offered to pay him for the priceless image. “Oh, no, sir. I could never repay what your son did for me. It is a gift.”
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. From then on whenever visitors came to call, he first took them to see the painting of his son before he presented any of the other great works they had collected together. ...And yet, still heartbroken, with only his son’s portrait to console - as well as torture by his absence - overtime the gentlemen’s body failed him as his heart was steadily cut-up from the sum total of gloom, grief is capable of rending.
There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the fruit of the greatest artists and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the man’s son. The auctioneer pounded the gavel.
“We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?” There was silence. Then a voice near the back of the room shouted, “We want to see the famous paintings. Skip that one.” But the auctioneer persisted. “Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100. $200?”
Another voice shouted angrily. “We didn’t come to see this armature portrait! We came to see the Van Goughs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids.” But still the auctioneer continued. “The son! Who will take the son?”
Finally, a voice came from the back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son, of whom both he was fond. “I’ll give $10 for the painting.” Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. “We have $10, who will bid $20?”
“Give it to him for $10! Let’s see the masters.” But the auctioneer continued. “$10 is the bid, won’t someone bid $20?” The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the image of the son. They wanted the more “worthy” investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. “Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!”
A man sitting on the second row shouted, “Now let’s get on with the collection!” But the auctioneer laid down his gavel. “I’m sorry, the auction is over.”
“What about the paintings?”
“All apologies. When I was called to conduct the auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the art collection. That man in the back who took the son gets everything.”
God gave his son over 2000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, “The Son, the Son, who will take the Son?” Because, you see, whoever takes the Son, gets everything...
Excerpt from and more like it here: https://tritorch.substack.com/p/the-light-is-gathering-3-unto-earth
Merry Christmas to you good sir, I wish all the best this holiday season and beyond!