It’s three days after Christmas. I’ve got to sit down and write a few more Christmas cards, wrap one more gift, and wait for the green light to travel and gather with our northwesterly kids who are trying to get over Influenza A.
I love Christmas, not just for the Christ in Christmas whom I love, but for the white lights, evergreen and berries, and hymns brought forward in new and relevant ways by artists not afraid to remaster and render the sacred in a still-sacred way, I love loving by thinking of, planning for, purchasing and wrapping. I love finding shortcuts around Christmas stress and busyness that turn out to be better than the long way. I love the scent of forest in white pine, pomegranate, cinnamon, mandarin orange and clove. I love the joy that accompanies being a bride, daughter, sister, mother, grandmother, aunt, friend and neighbor in homes and halls, and I’m getting better all the time at taking it with me over highways.
I love this space after Christmas, this quiet after Christmas; to be clear, I am referring to the days following December 25 on the calendar, not parking, for another year, the manger scene and the one who arrived to live with us as God-Man.
This is a space of reflection: the days, before the new year, when all the world and our own commerce lay softer, quieter. It’s 55º outside, but this space of contemplation is new-fallen-snow quiet. It may last only another minute, but for now I’m asking, what if?
What if this year … ?
What if this was the year to … ?
What if … ?
What if … ?
What if … ?
What if this was the year the me side of me waited for the God side of me?
The me side of me is a pioneer, an entrepreneur. I love imagining, planning, creating, making, building, restoring, reimagining. Sometimes, I get things right. Sometimes, things my side of me go very wrong and get very costly. The heels on my shoes get worn down. On the God side of me, there’s still me, but I’m on a bicycle built for two and I’m the one in the back pedaling but trusting where the captain in front is taking me. Wherever that is, he wants me there. I know he’s the I AM of beauty, imagination, love, kindness, vision, certainty and intent. My trust in him and his pursuit of the best of everything for me is as sure as the falling temperature outside.
What if we gave him all our what ifs to become people in the new year who imagine, plan, create, make, build, restore and reimagine beautiful things? What if we asked the questions and then lifted our feet from the pedals for just a little while to wait and watch for the answers?
“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.”
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
