I am feeling a bit melancholic today, as I do every year about this time. You see, I love Christmas. I love everything about it: decorating, the tree (always real), the smell of pine and cinnamon and baking, Christmas music, cheesy Christmas movies, the excitement my kids exude, even the the crowded shops. So when I came downstairs this morning to a tree-less living room, and my year-round decor neatly back in place, the finality of it sunk in. . . Christmas is over, and it’s time to get back to life. As my 7-year-old son said yesterday when we started to pack up Christmas, “What? Christmas is over? But it hasn’t even snowed yet!”
Yet, our reason for celebrating Christmas will never be over. I have “a hope and a future. . .” (Jeremiah 29:11) because of what occurred in Bethlehem so many years ago. Even the sight of our sad little tree waiting for disposal can’t take that joy away. God has also blessed me with a new year, and a new day; fresh with no mistakes. Although I tend to hold onto those moments I love, what a gift the passage of time is. Time to cherish the ones I love and watch my children grow. Time to learn and grow and renew. Time to become – day by day, year by year. And although, if we ever do get snow, I will have to throw on some Christmas music and whip up a batch of sugar cookies to make up for that little piece we missed, I’m looking forward to what God has for me tomorrow . . . this week . . . this year.