These are the words that I shared with my daughters yesterday.
It wasn't such a great day, yesterday. Nobody slept well. Dan and Rebekah were feeling poorly. I had to work really late. The house is a mess. Nothing productive is getting done because we are all so tired.
This weekend marks the beginning of Advent. We are decorating for Christmas. My planning has begun for the perfect Christmas season. A rich and powerful mix of spirituality and down home traditions. Everything is softly lit and peace and tranquility are complemented by a well chosen soundtrack of all-time favourite Christmas carols.
As darkness falls, candles are lit, a fire blazes in the fire place and the sweet scent of oranges and spices simmering on the stove wrap us in sensory memories harkening back to years past, reminding us of what we are so eagerly anticipating. Desiring for everyone to draw closer to God, we pray, sing and read scripture each evening. Advent calendars are opened and Christmas books are read aloud on our bed, children cosy in pyjamas. Softly lit trees diffuse the darkness as all fall peacefully to sleep, closer to their Creator than ever before.
Sounds great.
Doesn't happen quite like that it real life.
Someone's in a bad mood. One of us is sick. Rebekah is too old for Advent calendars. And for singing. And for Christmas books. The wooden candle holder with the little rotating angels catches on fire. The lights burn out on the tree. Someone forgets to take those simmering oranges off the burner and now the scent wafting through the kitchen has more burnt charcoal about it than Kriskindle.
It happens every year. I set my expectations high, bearing the mantle of Joy-bringer, Peace-maker, Cookie-baker, Gift-wrapper, Spiritual-trainer, Carol-singer, Wisdom-provider, Fire-builder...it goes on.
These titles, this perfection I seek, are a distraction from the one who is perfect and who made this life good.
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6
This mantle rests on His shoulders. He bears it well and He is perfect. I can rest in His perfection and call it good.
No comments:
Post a Comment