As night falls on this hallowed Christmas Eve, after the kids are off to bed and presents are safely tucked under the tree, when your last minute concerns are all laid to rest, carve out a few more last minutes to just be still, for as the song says, "'tis the eve of our Saviour's birth." A holy night, indeed. May we treat it as such, and find hope renewed in our weary hearts.
December 24, 2011
Last Minutes
Today is a day of last minutes. Last minute shopping. Last minute baking. Last minute wrapping. Last minute cleaning. Every year it seems, so many of us find ourselves utterly unprepared to savor the spirit of the season. How tempting it is to overcomplicate the simple, to fill every minute of every day with worries that rob us of peace, with activity that swallows whole the opportunity for contemplative respite. We have long since lost the art, the discipline of simply being still.
As night falls on this hallowed Christmas Eve, after the kids are off to bed and presents are safely tucked under the tree, when your last minute concerns are all laid to rest, carve out a few more last minutes to just be still, for as the song says, "'tis the eve of our Saviour's birth." A holy night, indeed. May we treat it as such, and find hope renewed in our weary hearts.
As night falls on this hallowed Christmas Eve, after the kids are off to bed and presents are safely tucked under the tree, when your last minute concerns are all laid to rest, carve out a few more last minutes to just be still, for as the song says, "'tis the eve of our Saviour's birth." A holy night, indeed. May we treat it as such, and find hope renewed in our weary hearts.
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