It's the afternoon of December 20th and I'm not ready. Jobs and duties and a full calendar have kept me on the go, so I'm a bit desperate for time at home to putter about and check check check things off my looooong list.
The house is messy. There are gifts left to order. Nothing is wrapped. The laundry is piled high. The cookies have no sprinkles.
But caroling is on the docket. So we load up in the mini van and go, my heart not completely in it.
And then it is.
Because when you sing Christmas songs to the broken and weary and dying, alone in their beds, you go.all.in. Because their eyes light up and the tears spill over and their tired lips whisper the words along with the singers strong. Because in their last breaths, they are clinging to the One thing needful and it's not wrapped up pretty or scribbled on a list or penciled in on the calendar. Because even in their pain and hurts, they hold Peace.
When you peal back the fluff of the holiday season, only One remains.
Everything else, all of it, fades away to a memory or is packed into bins and stored away.
Except for Him.
Even though December is over and the twinkle lights are down, Christmas will carry on. And on and on.
Because nothing shines brighter than the Gift in the manger bed who came to climb a hill and hang on a tree.
The Word in the flesh.
Our Rescuer, the Savior.
He is with us.
Today is Janurary 1st and the new year takes its breath. The clean slate is here, mercies new, and I want to live every day, every moment of it, with eyes and heart focused steady on Who matters most. I'm going to fail, no doubt, but my prayer is for less fluff and distraction and much more of Him. Less of me and more of others. Less stuff and more relationships. Less of anything and everything that isn't Jesus.
That's my wish for you, too, in 2015.
Link arms with me? And together we'll give reminders and encouragement and ideas. I'm not done chatting about this.
Not even close.
Happy New Year, dear ones.
Father, let me dedicate all this year to you
In whate'er my earthly state, in whate'er I do
Not from sorrow, pain, or care freedom dare I claim;
This alone shall be my prayer; Glorify your name
Hymn 75, CW