Tonight I took down and packed away all the Christmas things. The process is always a love/hate thing with me. I hate the fact that in no time at all the month of December is already gone, but I love the feeling of starting a fresh new year, and so the un-decorating phase, once started, is one I hurry to finish.
That’s how it was tonight too. I was on auto pilot, plucking off ornaments and stashing them in their boxes. At a certain point I looked at the now more than half-bare tree and just stopped, caught up in the realization that another Christmas had come and gone. In stripping the branches, it was like I couldn’t put all those trinkets away fast enough so I didn’t have to think about it. But in that moment, holding in my palm a small silver ball that over the years has lost a lot of its original luster, I realized the problem is with me, and not the season. I’m the one who has lost the luster—how is it that I can so swiftly want to part from this season that brings renewal in honoring the birth of our Savior Jesus?
In reflecting on that small, somewhat dull, silver orb, I got a big glimpse of the coming year. All the future moments that will lead to next year’s Christmas have their own sparkle in knowing we are called to Christ. He is not only the reason for the season, he is the reason for life.