Reflect

The holiday season is rushing in like the tide on the seashore. Grateful hearts, all too brief, are consumed by the vortex of commercialism.   It seems that we barely get our bellies full with turkey before Black Friday assaults us, bringing with it only distant strains of the true meaning of Christmas.  We buy things we cannot afford, send Christmas card letters that paint only the lovely parts of our lives and find ourselves mired in a war over the phrase Merry Christmas vs Happy Holidays.

If I am honest, this is one of the least holy times of the year for me. 

There was a time though, as a child, when Christmas was alive.  Not just with the “big guy in the red suit” but with a baby born in a manger.  The wonder of it all captivated me, a wonder that seems to have been lost over the years. 

Maybe the purity of that time was that there were no responsibilities to fulfill, no grown up accountability's but only the simplicity of childlike trust.  But perhaps there are some pieces to this puzzle that I can rearrange even as an adult.  I cannot physically return to that childhood but I can lay down the cumbersome things that keep me distracted from the heart of Christmas and focus once again upon the glorious mystery.  Like that child from my past, I can sit at His feet with delight.

And as I reflect upon this, I am reminded that it has always been childlike faith that ushers in the Kingdom.