Maybe this Christmas

Christmas is my very favorite holiday. I love Christmas. I love Christmas for the right reason -- the hope we have found is so very, very precious. The other things I do with Christmas all remind me of the importance of this season. AND I GET INTO IT. Come to my house -- it's a Christmas explosion. Anyway,  I love this season, okay?

The past month or two, we haven't exactly been receiving a lot of good news. Don't get me wrong; we are so blessed and I am not complaining. It's a simple fact. And it isn't slowing up in time for Christmas.

This morning, when I came downstairs in my house, I saw my "ever-green" (and very artificial) Christmas tree. I thought, Oh Lord, your love is ever lasting.

I saw our St. Nick's Day filled stockings on the mantle. All I hath needed, thy hand hath provided.

The boughs on my windowsills outlined our sun room, and I am surrounded and carried by grace.

My pom-pom garland entry announces joy. Joy that in our darkness, Christ broke through.

So the bad news is going to keep coming, and this morning I am more than ever aware of our true meaning of Christmas. This is exactly the meaning of this season: the bad keeps coming, and we keep waiting. They waited, after thousands of years of silence for a Savior. In this waiting, we come to find our savior. We are not abandoned to our own darkness, though it is what we deserved.

This morning, in the midst of bad news, I find new meaning in the words of the Angel to the shepherds.

And the angel said to them,
 “Fear not, for behold, 
I bring you good news 
of great joy 
that will be for all the people. 
For unto you 
is born this day in the city of David 
a Savior, 
who is Christ the Lord." 
Luke 2:10-11 (emphasis mine)


Merry Christmas.

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