“Home” for the holidays.
The hustle.
The bustle.
This time of year finds us wanting to forget or forgetting to want.
To remember.
The good.
The bad.
The ugly.
The fugly.
We dress ourselves up. In shiny new this, or shiny new that.
Hoping to remember and hoping to forget.
At this time of year, the sugar plum fairy is surely tired of the
”dance.”
But.
We do it anyway.
For some.
It is healing.
For others.
It is a struggle.
For some.
It is happy, fun.
For others, it is an obligation.
This time of year is such a big time of year.
An absolute “buzz.”
We know.
We know.
It comes this time every year.
Requires a level of emotional planning.
Financial, too.
Socials commitment pop up.
Ironically, because we come together in place and space.
So, too, does the bacterial bugs, cold, flus. They take the opportunity to “rise up.” Not necessarily in the best of ways.
Yes. We share a lot this time of year.
Including mucus🤧😷🤒🤓.
In some cases, it is the same old same old.
In some cases, we hope to connect, reconnect.
In some cases, we show up, but are really caring to disconnect.
In some cases, this time of year can be,
”too much.”
Love. Can be a four letter word.🫨
We love and care and it changes over time.
We care and love and it changes over time, too.
The familiarity remains the same.
The memories barely fade.
The new normal is an uphill battle climbing the ladder when age tells us to keep our feet firmly planted on the ground. We ignore the best advice. Scoff even. Climb up anyway, and take our chances. In some cases regretting the achey outcome. In others, a slap on our own back we made it up the ladder one more year.
Hoping that the next few years will not be dedicated to healing of what we broke. Because we did not listen to common sense. We decided that instead of “pushing it”. We pushed it.
We forgot.
Did not remember, that instead, in the great book, Jesus teaches us countless lessons of better ways. To love. To give. To heal.
Yield.
Listen
Wait.
Possible the most difficult of the three.
To wait.
I, for one, admit. I am often impatient for change.
Real change.
Honest change.
Good change
Good and honest and good change.
Heck!
We also think.
I do not have all the time in the world to wait for,
You.
However.
The best gift in the whole wide world may be this, or that.
What?
To wait.
Better stated.
Increase our patience threshold.
It says loud and clear to another
I will wait.
I respect you. Even though I have not figured you out,
Yet.
Until this thing is figured out.
For folks who may take advantage of the situation, and always will.
The lifelong lessons of trust or lack thereof will be their guiding light. Their light of what to do next. And they will fall, fail, foil on their own. Or rise up.
The next steps.
The figure it our moments.
Are up to all of us.
Everyday.
Returning to home, familiarity, this time of year, like anything,
has its benefits, and its detractions. The only big difference is the expectations of the joy.
Joy.
We can bring to the table.
Spiritually.
Non verbally(😳)
(No one really likes to talk politics or religion over fruit cake and egg nog.) Really.
However, it is happen and is done quite often.
We can be on our best behavior.
Our best holiday behavior.
Difficulties arise, however, when we may not “meet expectations.” Of humans, anyway.
The joyous part of the Christmas story.
We do not have to.
Meet expectations.
Why?
Because mine are not the same as yours, and yours are not the same as mine.
The sooner we get a grip on this beautiful part of the Christmas story, the better we can become.
Every year, at this time, He brings the expectation, for us. All we must do, is
Show up.
Hustle and bustle can make us edgy, impatient, our backs and legs begin to ache.
He teaches us, he has ours.
Our back.
All he requires of us is to open our hearts to love, to the changes of life.
Change is inevitable.
Learning to accept the changes, near to impossible.
But.
With Him. All things are possible.
In order to receive, we must believe.
In goodness.
Sharing.
Positivity.
Love (the four letter word)
So.
Let’s get to work.
Or.
For some.
Continue to work.
For others, find the best work to suit the change you seek to hope. Better still find the hope you seek to change.🫨
There are no shortcuts.
Schmoozing is still that.
Schmoozing.
A veritable waste of time. Precious time.
It is simple.
But.
It is not easy.
It is, however, as simple and as Joy. As beautiful too, as a baby Savior who comes into the world to remind us to be our best selves.
Be. Best.
Our best selves.
There is much strife in parts of the world.
There are quieter places as well.
Too much suffering.
Moments and quite pockets of peace.
He teaches us to take a step forward, or even a step back, to lessen the pain of those we hold near and dear, and those we do not know hold near and dear.
Unless we take a moment and think about, care about, the well being of our fellow man, the same patterns of hustle and bustle with out the truth meaning of the season may continue.
What good is this?
What good is that?
Unto us a Savior is born.
We remember.
We reflect.
Because it matters, to matter.
Reminders are for us to not buck tradition.
Embrace traditions with loved ones and neighbors.
Merry Christmas.
Happy Christmas.
Happy Holidays.
Happy New Year.
May the little baby Jesus, who has not yet learned to talk words, convey to you with cries of joy.
Cries to reach out to the best of one another and give our best to one another.
This time of year is not called the season of giving for nothing.
For no reason.
Give of your time.
Give of one of your smiles.
Give of your patience.
The baby Savior without mere words, cries the message that time heals our wounds, all, wounds.
If you believe it.
You will receive it.
Then.
Be ready to pass it on!
The gift that keeps on giving!
The message of love.
The message of healing.
Stop.
Look.
Listen
Heal.
Amen🙏🏻
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