It’s early. Really early when my eyes open wide. I roll over hoping for another hour of sleep, but sleep won’t come. Before I count to ten my thoughts run. Twenty more days until Christmas. Less than three weeks to get it all done. I need to order this, and pick up that. What in the world will I get him?
I consider my calendar for the next few days. I need to get the tree by Thursday. He says if we don’t go soon there won’t be any good ones left. How in the world did my friend get all of this done before Black Friday? I wish I had her discipline.
I pour coffee and gather Advent devotionals. Is it even possible to get all the work done? I may need to put in a few extra hours next week. I should make a list.
I stoke the fire and climb back in bed. My friend’s devotional words strike a nerve. He tells of being intentional about slowing down. How it changed his poor attitude about the Christmas Season. His encouragment speaks to me.
Do the things that help you keep focus. Focus, Stacy. Focus.
I already need a speed limit sign and we are just four days into the season. Some constant reminder going fast, getting it all done is not the way. At least not for me anyway.
This Advent journey is not an open highway where I can push the speed limit. Nor will there be any “making up time” as my hubby likes to say. There must be a slowing down on my way to the manger. An arms wide open embracing of every single mile. Every twist and curve. Every hill and valley. Some moments will be a blur and others will feel as if they last forever. In the end, it will all get done or it won’t.
The truth is none of that matters if I arrive at my destination and miss out on living along the way. This is one of the most beautiful things I’m learning as I follow His lead. There’s always time. Time to live the journey. Time to notice the good and the not so good. Time to sit a while, sip coffee and be present to the moment at hand.
The manger will be there when I arrive. It’s waiting for me. When I get there I’ll creep quietly forward careful not to wake the sleeping babe. I’ll gaze with wonder at the sight of the Savior resting in the hay. If there’s one thing I know, He’ll be there.
He always is.
So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David’s town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.
While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. She gave birth to a son, her firstborn. She wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in a manger, because there was no room in the hostel.
Luke 2:5-7, The Message