I'm not a huge fan of "the holidays". I've been known to call them "holler-days". I've even been known to remark....ah...something along the lines of the "homogeonized, depersonalized, soul-less commercialization of what could otherwise be simple and beautiful."
Something like that.
But I'm not a "bah-humbug" by a long shot. Each and every year, the Lord and I manage to pull off a 'whacking' celebration (I'm told that means "large, big") complete with deep thoughts, tears of joy, and some secret desire of my heart met in spades. This inner celebration happens in my heart, in spite of all the blow -up synthetic Santas in this world, my teeny tiny gift shopping budget, and every wretched "pretty boy band" who has ever destroyed a traditional Christmas carol. In my mind, odds like those just mentioned are darn-near insurmountable, but with God all things are possible. He simply gives the best gifts, not the least of which is a merry heart.
This world needs to see believers who can enjoy every day-ish sort of life. Um, for that matter, believers need to see believers taking delight in living out an ordinary day. Any moron can enjoy the mountaintop, but it takes a soul set free to enjoy a Monday morning...or a Wednesday afternoon, in the rain, wearing pink rubber boots. This past Sunday, during our time of worship, the Lord spoke to me and said, "In this season of your life, I want you to wake up every morning and ask yourself, 'What would I most enjoy doing today?' ~ and Daughter, that is what I want you to do. I, even your God, will yet enlarge your capacity to enjoy ordinary life, because it is what I want everyone to see. Serve me with outlandish gladness, Dear One."
I got the point. It seemed too good to be true. Wake up, and do what brings me joy. Oh, I still teach my youngest son in our home school, even when he makes me want to bite the head off a bat. I still do laundry. But somehow, deep down, I am learning that I am completely free to have fun in the face of every grief, obstacle, messy job, and what might otherwise become mind-numbing routine. God prepares a table for me in the presence of my enemies.
And when I am done eating my fill, my goal is to daintily wipe the corners of my mouth, push my plate away....
...and then get up on that table and dance!
Merry Christmas, ya'll!