We are covered to the elbows in red and green paint, but the festive wrapping paper stretched out to dry on the table before us more than justifies the mess. The toddler points to his distinctively tiny handprints and smiles his satisfaction, as his older brothers start wondering aloud about cocoa with candy cane stirrers. In that mental snapshot, I’m the tired mum, trusting that somehow I was helping my kids to connect the dots between homemade wrapping paper and the God who took on a body so he could save the world.
In the pursuit of Pinterest perfection superimposed upon catechesis, it’s easy to forget that family members will continue to require bath towels and clean underwear in the month of December, and that Advent season includes the routine preparation of at least 75 meals on top of all the other holiday baking and decorating. I wish I had known in those days of hand-crafted ornaments and caroling at the nursing home that Christmas is not a race or a responsibility, that celebration can be as small or as quiet as a story by candlelight—as imperfect and unassuming as a one-eyed gingerbread man.
If you are feeling crowded by Christmas; if you are looking at your calendar and your do-list and whispering, “How…?” it’s never too late to lower your expectations, lighten your load, and limit your activity level.
Today at (in)courage, I’m offering help for staying present to the wonder of Word made flesh, of Christ crowded into time and space and a feed box.
It would be a gift if you join me there….
Wishing you a spacious celebration of our Savior,
Subscribe to Living Our Days to get regular content delivered to your inbox. Just enter your e-mail address in the field at the top of this page.