Today there has been a lull in my thinking. A lull in my doing. A lull in the day. I haven’t stopped. I just have paused.
My thinking today has jumped from one topic to another. Each one a bit coherent, but not actually.
This has been a strange season of Christmas for us. On one hand, I have been filled with memories and joys and have sat with my memory scrapbook open. Each page has held a special thought. Special feelings in my heart that give me peace and a dose of the syrup of gratitude. I have spent the past few weeks reliving times passed.
With the times that are gone, it has armed me to think of what is transpiring now, in the present, and be grateful for what is.
We have planned on being on the road today. We would have been almost to D.C., if our plans had gone perfectly. But, things have come up and here we sit, at home. Me, grumpy, and trying hard to see the grateful-ness.
But, as I have written the past few weeks, perfection does not go hand in hand with Christmas. Perfection has never really been a part of Christmas. If it had, then, the Christ child would not have been born in a stable, He would not have been laid in a manger. A crude structure that holds feed for animals. His mother would not have had to travel nine months pregnant on a donkey just to be part of a census.
No, perfection and Christmas does not go together. Yet, each Christmas is perfect, its memories are perfect memories, its laughter and joy is perfect. Families gathered together are perfect.
May your Christmas be an imperfect perfection. Thinking this afternoon, as the sun begins to set and trying to find the grateful today. Thanks for stopping by. DAF