NeuroDivine

The fourth day of Christmas always arrives with a different texture — a shift in the air, a pause in the brightness. On the blog, where faith, embodiment, and the varied ways we move through the world often meet, this feast feels especially resonant. The Holy Innocents remind us that the Christmas story is not all soft light and easy joy. It is also a story lived in the real world, where fear exists, where power can wound, and where vulnerability is not a flaw but a truth shared by every body and every mind.

This day invites us to sit with complexity: the ache of loss alongside the tenderness of God choosing to be held, carried, protected. It asks us to remember the children whose lives were cut short, and also the children — and adults — who still navigate danger, displacement, or disregard. Their stories echo through time, calling us toward compassion that is grounded, embodied, and attentive.

And yet, even here, Christmas does not falter. Christ comes as one who knows our fragility from the inside. The Incarnation is not an escape from the world’s harshness but a declaration that divine love is found precisely where pain and hope meet.

With that in heart and mind, I’ve written a short hymn for this day — a prayer for mercy, healing, and peace in a world that still longs for all three. May it offer a moment of stillness as we continue our journey through the twelve days.

1.
Christ, whose star still burns with mercy,
Shine where grief and shadows fall.
Guide the children lost to violence;
Hold their names within your call.

Bright Star of hope, stay near to us;
Lead us through the darkest night.

2.
When the tyrant’s fear grows deadly,
Still your light outshines the night.
You, the Child who faced our danger,
Lead us by your steadfast light.

Bright Star of hope, stay near to us;
Lead us through the darkest night.

3.
Spirit, let your star of healing
Glow where wounds and sorrows stay.
Draw us toward your promised kingdom,
Born in us this holy day.

Bright Star of hope, stay near to us;
Lead us through the darkest night.

Words copyright Michael McFarland Campbell 2025.