A beautiful disaster...

Walking out into our living room today, there was only one phrase that sprang to mind: a beautiful disaster.

It is strewn all about with piles of gifts meant to be taken to one place or another, as well as all the trappings of a pretty gift: scissors and bows, scotch tape and shiny tags, wrapping paper and ribbon.

A lot of love goes into the way that our family does the holidays. True, we trek around from place to place and have our least favorite little idiosyncrasies for each spot. 7 AM is my resounding least favorite part of this whole process. But what child can be asked to wait any later than that when there's a glimmering pile of presents to be discovered? Certainly not I at their age.

But beyond all the hustle and the bustle, the buying and the baking resonates something profoundly good. A pause in the full-tilt pursuit of the ever elusive something we're all running after, just to be with one another, as we find ourselves in this moment.

For me, that is some of the greatest magic of Christmas. A sudden, cinnamon dusted moment that beckons us back to the deeper truth of what this life really is.

We sing songs, we decorate trees, we [alright, alright: I] drape white twinkle lights over everything that will stand still. We bake sweets and then eat them with reckless abandon. And we exchange gifts. In short, we celebrate.

We take a moment to savor the sweet and to embrace the beautiful. To remember that life is very good and traced throughout with wonders like peace, hope and joy.

God created the world and it was good. God wrought us from the dust and we were good.

But then we broke it.

So God sent His Son in the form of a sleeping baby, with all the bright hope and newness of unspoilt life that that image carries, to restore the goodness and to rekindle the light and to set us free to live God-ward in a whole new way.

And there is beauty in that. Redemptive loveliness scattered lavishly over this whole season. And I'm grateful for the chance to stop and see what is good.

The truth is, there's been a lot of seeming disaster in these days we've been walking through. To the naked eye, there's dust and ash laid over everything from all of the breaking that's occurred. And as much as I hate to admit it, there are some moments when my eyes grow cold and that is all that I see.

But my God is kind and rich in mercy and He awakens my soul to perceive His goodness again and again. He wipes a tear and lifts my head and at the perfect moment reveals again that despite all the brokenness I carry, He has come to again make all things beautiful. The world is traced through with His glorious, redemptive fingerprints. And that work continues in me. And in you.

And that, that God-breathed beauty rising from the brokenness, that is something to celebrate.

So Merry Christmas to one and all.

May He bless our eyes to see, in this season and always, the surpassing beauty His love can bring.