Perhaps we find these days of December a bit like a pilgrimage as we wind our way through aisles and tissue and lists.
As we navigate sorrow and loss co-mingled with joy and hope and peace.
We mourn what was, sometimes what is, or what could have been.
The bright and shiny sits next to the disappointed dream.
We buy gifts or don’t. We mail cards or don’t. We plan menus or order in.
We listen to Christmas hymns and carols and receive the familiar words into our souls again. They are balm.
Reminder of why we navigate these days of December, listening, looking, waiting, seeking.
Pilgrimage leads to worship.
The grace amazing in every good day woven like twinkle lights among the bumpy spots, the heartbreaking, or the fragile reality points to praise.
Pilgrimage leads to a destination.
This December destination looks a lot like straw and a manger and a baby who is a Savior sent to make right all the desperation and devastation and deep, deep soul-wrenching need. For behold! He is making all things new.
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