and try to keep it all year
The grass glitters with frost, twinkling Messiah-lights that will remain long after Christmas. Long after we have packed away our bulbs and vacuumed away all traces of the tree; after we, traveling on to January, have stopped announcing our King, all creation still will proclaim His praise in a language understood in every nation. I consider this as we wind our way down the road to school and new morning light chases away all the shadows.
“So, what was your elf doing when you got home from school yesterday?”
I smile in the rearview mirror, glancing back at our friend who rides to school with us everyday. Though she be but little, she is fierce. When I think of this friend, I always think of Shakespeare’s line from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. She and Riley, who have been self-proclaimed besties since kindergarten, who celebrate their birthdays just weeks apart, still love to swap elf-on-the-shelf stories at Christmas.
“Well, um, yesterday, when I got home from school, Noelle had somehow found the Christmas Spirit Week list from school.”
“Oh wow, she did?”
“Yea, she did, and she was wearing her ugly Christmas sweater.” At this, Riley begins to chortle. Every syllable seems to crumble into humor.
“Oh, that’s crazy! What was she doing?”
“Well, um, she and Tinsel were playing the Elf Card Shuffle game at the table! It was so funny!”
“Can you send me a picture? Did you take a picture?” In the mirror, I can see our friend lean forward. “What else has she been doing? You need to send me some pictures!”
The excitement in the car is palpable, and I can’t help but smile. Suddenly all the grown-up doll play feels worthwhile, even if I find it to be yet another stumbling process. Our elf is more like a house guest than a spy; we have no talk about reporting misbehaviors to Santa. Instead, for a few minutes every day, I remember how, in my childhood, one of my aunts would pose my teddy bear while I wasn’t looking, how I would walk in the room and find him reading the paper or eating cookies or playing dress-up, and from these memories I draw inspiration for posing our elf. Riley gets up in the morning and goes looking for the elf; she gets home from school and can’t wait to see what Noelle has been doing. And in between times, she talks about it. “I can’t wait to see what Noelle will do next,” she says, and her anticipation always reminds me what the real expectation of Advent looks like. Would that I could develop that same level of anticipation for the activity of God.
“Well, she’s doing something different this morning,” Riley says. “She’s–“
“Wait–what? What’s she doing?” Our friend interrupts from the back seat.
It’s like this every morning before Christmas; their sharing shakes off all our sleepy reluctance and complaint; it awakens my smile, and I can’t help but think that a daily swapping of God-stories among friends could do the same, that this kind of mutual anticipation, expectation, and celebration of God–Past, Present, and Future; who is always working, could become my way, as Dickens wrote, to “honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.”
“She’s sitting on a snowflake at the window, and Tinsel’s looking out. I think because she heard me talking about the weather yesterday. I think she went to watch the weather.”
“Yeah, I bet she did. I bet she’s wondering if it will snow, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, probably so. Mmmhmm, she probably thinks it might snow.”
I need a snatch of hope, a dear friend of mine wrote recently, confessing something most of us feel without even being able to label the longing. Sometimes seen things become so in-your-face bold in their deceptions that I need to borrow a loved one’s sight for unseen Truth. I need to ask, “Hey, what’s God doing now? Where did you find Him this morning?” And maybe just maybe, on the days when you feel blinded, I can be the one whose syllables crumble with joy; maybe on those days I can be the witness. Maybe together, even after we stow away the Christmas decorations for another year, we can keep right on announcing the praise and coming of our great King.
***
Merry Christmas, dear ones! Thank you for the continual gift of your reading, for blessing me by showing up here and joining us on the journey. God is good and His wonders never cease, and for me, the encouragement of your presence here is one of those wonders. You are always in my prayers! Whatever you’re facing this Christmas, it matters and I care, and I’m praying that above all else, you will know that you are deeply loved and not alone. By grace and with love, Elysa
