Today, the twelfth day before Christmas is a reminder I’ve put off the other thirteen. Although, there’s a wreath on the door, greens on the porch rocker, and a small live tree the kids brought over and decorated to add a seasonal touch, it’s just not the usual . . .
Because it’s not the usual.
Maybe you’re experiencing the same-not-the-usual, because for some it’s not the most wonderful time of the year. And it has to be okay not to be merry when you’re grieving. Even though tis the season for shopping mall music, you may have noticed a silver-bell-and-city-sidewalk kind of smile on those who are just trying to get through the crowd to hide the sadness. Or haven’t you noticed?
I believe we can collectively sigh in agreement that so often we don’t. Or maybe they’re only in my mall.
Everybody has a story at this time of year, one they want to remember and one they want to forget. The one I don’t want to forget is the greatest story – the one of Jesus, not asleep on the hay, but breathing hope into a dark moment. Into a dark world.
When loss eclipses the merry, and it’s not the most wonderful time of the year – we can still be full of wonder, if we simply keep it sacred and adore.
So, for you and for me, may this be an un-usual Christmas Now even if it doesn’t resemble Christmas Past – and let it stop us in our advent tracks to shift our gaze as a child who sees the glitters of glory and shards of wonder within the broken pieces. Blessed Christmas.
For unto us a child is born . . . and he shall be called Everlasting. Isaiah 9:6