Karoline bought me an advent calendar just before the season started. It hangs above my bed as a sweet reminder that each day ticks by, always closer to the holy night.
Now that we're done with shopping (well, I am. I hope you are too) and we are just about ready to snuggle into the holiday. It's strange how anti-climactic it can all seem.
They took down the Weihnachtsmarkt today in the city center. I was properly bummed as I walked through, all the once festively adorned little shacks stripped bare if present at all. The season comes and goes; it must; it is part of life. But still I look at my little calendar with the one door waiting and wonder. I wonder what it we are waiting for.
We know by now that this wasn't actually the time our Lord was born, but rather just a time of celebration. We know by now that all our traditions and stories have little to do with the actual events; they're more a mix of old heathen ideas, misunderstandings, and things decreed long ago. But still I'll wait to open the last door.
But I don't want to wait another year to celebrate, and I don't mean having Christmas in July. I want to sing our "Christmas" songs every day, always remembering that God actually came to be one of us for a while. So much is packed into what happened, so much poured into our reality. What are we waiting for?
.jrs.
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