My favorite repeat Christmas devotional, "Emmanuel" by Ruth Chou Simons, hit the week focused on expectations vs. expectancy, and this year and I can sense I've grown in my bones. I am so much more interested in actually worshipping the long-awaited King this season over making a million bleary memories. I am so much more interested in being expectant of Him : truly the only one and thing that never disappoints, then stepping in with all my expectations of a vibrant and meaningful overwhelming season. I want the overwhelming thing to be Christ Came Down. Not 87 activities.
Finding myself naturally so has surprised me. In the past it has taken much effort to focus the way I want to and to reign in my expectations. But the last two dark and weary Christmases, both of which I felt barely surviving and often focusing on simply breathing through, has me grateful for the warmth and peace of this one, and in awe of Who He Is, encapsulated with Christmas.
Our sweetest Christmas activity so far was helping Lady Jane decorate. Sleeping on the couch one night with Ben by the tree. Watching "While You Were Sleeping" with Lily and Sofie for the first time. Going to lunch with Beth. Wiping mustaches from dozens of cups of hot chocolate. Wrapping presents with Emma (that was sweet, and utterly inefficient). Driving the party bus blaring Christmas Carols to church on Wednesday nights, picking up youth all along the way. Playing Christmas hymns on the church's gorgeous baby grand piano when no one is there. Making all the soups and chilis and stews. Listening to Christmas hymns. Lighting the Advent candles.
I am thankful that the One we are waiting for so badly is already here.
❤️❤️❤️
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