two more shopping days
Today is December 21, we are officially in the home stretch.
The three bulletins for the Christmas Eve worship services are at the printers, the cookie dough is in the refrigerator and the grocery list ready, the sermon notes are beginning to jell, the family begins arriving at home tonight and the poinsettias arrive at church tomorrow.
Whatever has been left undone will probably remain so at this point. And no doubt I’ve left some important work dangling. Searching for this unfinished pieces was the angst I felt as I awoke this morning, but in the fullness of the day’s light (which is admittedly limited on this cloudy day!) I realize that the incompleteness is part of the story.
Ours is a story of the unexpected and the incomplete. Our story has less to do with Martha Stewart and more to do with the homeless refugee. Regal perfection is missing in our Christmas story, making do is the name of the game for the no-account couple from Nazareth.
Ready or not, the baby is born. And in the case of our Jesus, readiness was in short supply.
What was in abundance, then and now, was love. Love for the child, love for the parents, love for the wonder of God in our midst. And this, dear friends, is the real meaning of Christmas that both permeates and transcends all that we do during these next few days.