thoughts at five-thirty on christmas eve

Xmas post TAL

I headed out for the office early this morning to warrant an early Christmas Eve getaway.  The damp streets were barren and while sugar plums still danced in the rest of suburbia’s heads, it was just little ol’ me, the fog and Craig Groeschel via podcast.  As he spoke of praise in the waiting and of God’s faithfulness, I was staring into the thick mist ahead of me.  It made me think about people (a few in particular) who see exactly that this Christmas.  A foggy unknown of new normals or unending cycles.  Of loss.  Of uncertainty.  With each kilometer I drove, I was still seeing the same hazy scene ahead. And I realized one day that’s going to be me.

It’s the circle of life, right?  My family is intact.  I have a job and a home.  We have our health.  We have curated a strong collection of friends.  And one day it will not be exactly as so.  One Christmas, one of these things, or some of these things will not be there.  And I will be staring at a seemingly impenetrable wall of fog, wondering how I or we will ever get through to the other side where there is light and stability and predictability and fun.

Just as my mind was forming these questions with big words, about 10km into my drive, the fog lifted, the muted glow of the street lamps brightened and suddenly I was surrounded by other cars, moving forward still, just like me.

Still listening to the sermon, I was then urged remember the moments of God’s faithfulness in the past, and my heart steadied.  I recalled so many times when God walked through fires with me and led me to the other end of it in one piece.  The small moments and the years-long big picture blessings.  (I have a long commute.)

He is so good.  All the time.  For reals.

When I leave the office for home this afternoon I just have to buy some jelly beans on the way and then I will begin soaking in each perfect and imperfect Christmas moment.  When I talk and when I listen, I will look into the eyes of my children and my husband and my family and everyone else I encounter in the coming days.  I will be patient and gracious and thankful.  I will praise Him for all that I have now and in the future, and I will offer up to Him whatever is on your heart too, my friend.

And I will definitely have to do something about my hair.  It’s a disaster right now.


Joy to the world!  Have a beautiful Christmas!