Writer. Mom. Daydreamer. Dog's Best Friend.
I think I was about five days into December the first time I heard an advertisement that said…
“Has the stress of the holidays gotten you down?”
“How crazy,” I thought. “How has something so deep become enshrouded in shallow consumerism? How has the holy been lost in the mundane? At the time of year when followers of Christ should be the most reflective, where can silence still be found?”
I fear the most precious things in life are slain not by evil, but by the exhaustion of doing too much good.
Even when I plan well with the goal of a quiet December, I find The Rescuer’s voice is steadily obliterated by the din. Day after day, my children return home from school and church with a new service project to which I need to contribute; lists of items that I need to provide for Holiday parties; another end of the year school project for which they need supplies (this past week alone I prepared food from Israel, Russia, and The English Renaissance). Bit by bit, my soul grows hungry, weary, and sad.
I so miss Jesus at Christmas.
So, I’m staging a rebellion. I’m going counterculture. Radical.
I’m stopping right here, right now. I’m going to light the fire, sing a hymn, and listen to the silence. I am going to whisper “Thank you” from the heart to My Comforter, My Rescuer, My Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting Father, My Sweet Prince of Peace.
Emanuel. God is with us.
The Word is speaking, and I will listen.