This weekend we started preparing our home for the Christmas season.
I'm currently sitting in my dining room enjoying the soft light of my tree (he needs the ornaments, but he's still looking rather handsome with just lights and garland and twirly twigs). My house was turned upside down this past weekend as we shuffled children into new bedrooms and took the decorations out of the attic. I've got boxes everywhere and dust and styrofoam pieces are floating across the floor like tumbleweeds. It's a lot of chaos.
But, strangely, as I inhaled the scents of the evergreen scented candle and looked around at the boxes still needing my attention, I felt a great sense of promise and a fullness of peace down in my bones.
Because I do love this season.
For me, this season has become more than just preparing my home for the festivities, it has become more and more about preparing my heart and making it a welcome spot for Him and for others. Over the past few years He's been working on me--helping me see things in my life that have been unlovely and unworthy of receiving His precious gift. He has brought me to my knees and lavished me with heaps of Love and Grace.
I cannot understand this incredible gift, but I am eternally grateful for it.
Each time I unpack the creche, I am reminded that yet another year has passed and I am so thankful that my family is here once again to celebrate. I put sweet Mary in her place and I smile at the symbolism of the sheep standing next to her. The lyrics to the old songs become new again in my soul, and I'm reminded over and over and over again that I'm forgiven and Loved. How a mama could give her Baby to the world is beyond my heart's comprehension, but I'm so aware of my desperate need for Him. The magnitude of this Gift overwhelms and I'm brought to tears of thankfulness.
That thrill of hope, that promise of life anew, is all that my weary heart really needs.