The first Sunday in December is here…Advent begins. It’s known as a waiting time, and I laugh at that because most of us seem awfully busy…maybe we are just busy while we wait.
Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want this season to play out, and I’m struck more and more how the small, quiet moments sing Christmas to me:
the first card waiting in the mailbox, jingle bells glistening in a bowl, a chalkboard in the kitchen numbering the days we wait…
it’s not about fancy; it’s about trying.
I like driving down streets in my town where lights are strung haphazardly, where a red bow on a post or a faded yarn decoration crookedly proclaims We are waiting, too.
Today my heart says that Christmas is about making an effort. It’s baking a couple of sheets of gingerbread cookies to welcome my son home, it’s collecting some greenery and berries and arranging them in buckets and jars, it’s listening to carols on an unseasonably warm afternoon walk.
Today and the days that follow, I hope to make the effort to see Christmas in the smallest of things. I hope you’ll join me.