The Facebook pleadings for a few more hours in the day, a clone, another week, have slowed now. Rather than busy and important sounding, status updates such as these might now read as merely disorganized and inept. Or perhaps there is resignation amongst my friends and acquaintances, a sense that if it isn't done by now, it probably won't get done. Alternatively, it's possible that these folks have simply become such a critical mass of frenzied activity that they can no longer spare the few minutes a day to update us. Whatever the cause, I sense the Christmas quiet beginning to descend.
We normally have a quiet Christmas season. I've spent no small amount of self-deceiving energy constructing righteous rationalizations as to why this is so. We intentionally live with margin. We choose our activities judiciously. We center on deep spiritual meaning rather than commercial frenzy. Truth is, we probably just have fewer friends than a lot of people. Five sick kids, four inches of snow and a good book from the library doesn't hurt the motivation to curl up and stay home.
My Christmas came and went last week. It arrived in a difficult and necessary conversation with a friend. It moved through painful honesty and concluded with reconciliation as the desired and that much closer, possible end.
Christmas doesn't come every year, at least not to me. Some years it is the Santas, the elves on shelves, the white elephants. Fun but ultimately meaningless. Every so often, though, the reconciliation that God intended by sending his Son to redeem humanity blazes through the trappings and pierces hearts.
Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward men.