The tree is finally complete, the shelves have been dusted, the toys decluttered, laundry folded and put away, fridge and freezer stocked, three batches of cookies baked. Everyone has helped to make the house festive...
We've had our first Christmas party with friends.
My shopping is just about finished. (My crafting was hardly begun.) The packages that cluttered one end of my dining table for three days have been mailed.
Even the weather is ready for Christmas. The mulberries -- the last trees to change color each December and announce the impending arrival of Christmas -- have dropped their leaves, carpeting the neighborhood in bright yellow shag. The rain has been cleaning the air outside.
So, when will my heart be ready? Why does it feel so heavy?
I simplified. I planned. We made our own fun when the plans were derailed. The derailing continues, but that's to be expected. Two colds and the flu in the middle of sugar and stress season.
I am off my diet, friends. We've been reading our Advent book, but I haven't been doing my own devotions. I am not taking care of myself, nor am I spending enough time with the Lord. We are all suffering for it. The house may look festive, but our hearts are not feeling it.
In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.
I have a week to spend down on my knees, to let Him teach me patience while I cry out in impatience, to put my eyes back on Him, where they belong. I have a week to slow down, and give my energy to my family, who deserve it.
It is a long journey, this wait for the arrival of the King.