Hiatus

There’s a little green Charlie Brown Christmas clock that hangs in my kitchen and plays tiny tinkling Christmas carols every hour during the Christmas season. I usually take it down and remove the batteries for storage every year on December 26th. By that time I’ve usually had my fill of Christmas and all it’s offerings, and I’m ready to tuck it away with the new sweet memories of the year. This time I left it up for two full weeks after we stopped officially celebrating the holiday. It kept filling my sail with the hope of Jesus every time the hour arrived as it played Oh Come Let Us Adore Him or We Will You a Merry Christmas in its tiny splendor. I was having trouble letting it go. With that, all of my Christmas decor stayed drooping from two long months of duty. The noise of its clutter left me aching for clean spaces, but the representation of the incarnation held me fast. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I baked bread instead.

Finally, in a burst of determination, I took the batteries out of the little Charlie Brown clock and set it on a shelf. That got the ball rolling. 

I took Christmas down and tucked it all away for a long winter’s nap, and pulled everything off my walls for a clean sweep of the year and all it’s baggage. 

It feels better. Letting go of what was, Christmas, and embracing what is, winter, has been a wrestling match I’ve contented with all of my life. But God continues to remind me to hold this life with an open hand. My hope doesn’t come from the tinkling songs on the hour, my hope comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth.

So yesterday when I trekked down to blow kisses to the horses at the end of my walk, I lifted my eyes to the hills. I was transported into real beauty. Real truth. Real hope. The Heavens are telling the glory of God. I only need to lift my eyes and I’ll see His glory in every direction.

Lift up your eyes, darling. He has not abandoned us here. He will walk with us through the valley of the shadow of death, and we need not fear, for He is with us.

Lvb