I feel like it's a different sort of Christmas here this year. Different than expected anyhow. Usually I focus intensely during Advent -- on Christ's coming, on God's heart for His people, on the darkness of the world and the piercing glory of God's tangible, solid, absolute goodness -- but this year I've been a bit distracted, mentally and emotionally. (Also, I've been realizing each year will just be different.. and that's perfectly okay.)
Today, I got Baby loaded in the car and out of the house and into town for a dentist appointment... only to find a sign on the door saying "Will Be Back Tomorrow" (serious Winnie-the-Pooh moment). Pulling out my phone I found, sure enough, that the appointment's for tomorrow. (I guess the upside is that we were definitely early/on time -- talk about Mommy brain. ;P)
So! I have a house that needs to be tidied and loads of laundry to do at home, but (since we drove one car today) Baby and I are now at Daddy's shop, and I'm focusing on the particular blessings around me: sitting still and enjoying the sparkly lights on the office tree, and the incredible warm snuggly baby sleeping hard on top of me, and thankful for comfortable new winter shoes and exciting packages(!) and door delivered pizza (nothing gourmet, but very welcome warm food for the hungry) and for 10 more days of Christmas to look forward to.
When starting this post I looked up the word 'reality' and synonyms include 'absoluteness', 'brass tacks', 'certainty', 'concreteness', 'solidity', 'truth', and this little fascinating fact: in the 1550's, before the spelling differentiation, it was the same spelling for the legal term of 'fixed property', which leads to a rather amazing analogy.
No matter how scatterbrained I am, or how much I do or don't feel emotionally in sync with events at a given time, I am His fixed possession. My husband is His... This wonderful baby girl He's given into our keeping is His...
Christ, the Great Second Person of the Trinity, chose to become a weak, helpless baby: a real baby who cried for His mother's milk, who needed His linen changed, and His small heavy head held securely till His neck strengthened and He learned how to hold it on His own. A real baby who would learn to smile and coo at His mother's face. He became a baby that He might grow to a real man, a warrior -- lauded at times and at the last despised -- who would give Himself over to Death itself, fighting the Great Dragon in a bloody battle for the souls of His people and taking the captives free.
"For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39
And that's what I'm going to be working on meditating on this year. :)