shadowwonder

Right away, I should get this off my chest: this is not a classic New Years’ post.   It’s more of a confession: Thinking about resolutions exhausts me. It’s not that I don’t want to make positive changes in my life.  But there are just so many that need to be made.   When I think about them, it’s like positioning my face a few inches from the nozzle of a fully-engaged firehose.  There’s no way I can take a sip, or even a gulp.  Instead, I’m gasping to get any oxygen at all. Whether it’s deciding how to spend a few free hours, or considering what I might give up for Lent, I have no shortage of ideas.  Quite the contrary.  I’ve been “blessed” with the ability (and never-ending-middle-of-the-night mental energy) to dream up countless “good” things to do.  Some might enjoy this version of “creativity.”  I am not one of them. Perhaps an illustration will help.  I’m not trying to fall asleep yet (so this will be on the short side), but this here's the product of a brief brainstormi

“Mom, I’m working on a gift for you, but is it okay if it’s a little late?”  My daughter’s eyes were mostly confident, but seeking one last ounce of reassurance. We had this conversation while driving home from her art lesson last week.  My daughter and her teacher have been working on a Christmas project for a few sessions now.  They expected to complete it earlier, but she needs to make some finishing touches at her next lesson, which will be after The Big Day.  “Sweetie, it’s okay if you need extra time.  I know I’ll love it, no matter when it’s ready.” I don’t have to see her work to know it’s a treasure.  So I am enjoying the wait, anticipating this gift that is the product of her hopeful efforts.  ------------------------------------------------------ Is this how the Jews felt when, generations before His arrival, they ached for Christ to come?  They didn’t know exactly what to expect.  But they knew it would be the fulfillment of a centuries-old desire. -------------------

  Just the other day, I found myself enjoying a rare delight--especially during the fast-encroaching holiday frenzy: I had an unexpected opportunity for an extended period of silence.  I was driving, making an hour-long mama-taxi run to retrieve a child from one event before delivering this child to the next.  I spent a few minutes in quiet, then turned on the radio to find a prayerful song we’ve learned recently at church . . . one of those songs that speaks to a place deep within me. It didn’t take long until I was having a moment.  A time when God was shining a little beam of light through a crack in the boundary between earth and heaven, allowing me to catch an unexpected but much-needed glimpse of peace.  Maybe even a little joy.   I heard a funny noise over the music and realized my phone was ringing.  I answered to the sound of my child’s angry exclamations about our previously-agreed-upon plan. And just like that, the moment ended.  The beam of light retracted back to heave