the christmas decorations are up in the attic.
i can't bear to bring them down.
when i wrapped them up 11 months ago, the season was still in full swing. we were traveling to spend the first christmas in 7 years with tony's family, and so on december 16 we took everything down.
i took them down while my life was still in tact.
while our family was still whole.
to bring them down seems cruel.
i'm amazed at how the one part of me that i never thought would change, has.
yes, the Savior came down to give us eternal life...to bring peace on earth between man and Himself.
but...
an earthly father left us.
"joy to the world" ends in broken tears.
"silent night" reminds me of the first night of "knowing"...the quiet, the shock, the hush of grief...
lighting my christmas tree feels as though i am lighting a monument to monumental pain. it's seems a mockery...
and yet, the lives of those so horribly affected are a walking monument to the living peace of the living Christ who has sustained us for these last 10 and a half months.
then why can i not start trimming the tree? why do my christmas plates stay hidden away...my music silent...will i find joy in the silent again?
by faith, abraham believed what God had promised him even in the knowing that he would never see it come to pass.
lately, it's been pressed on my heart that yes, all things *do* work together for good for those that love Jesus, but we don't always get to see those good things come about. my faithfulness in living out my belief that God is good may not be for my good, but for the good of furture generations...
and that may need to start with setting up the tree, by decking the halls, by showing the next generation that are still under 4 feet tall that in the bleak cold winter nights, there is a Light...and it is Him we pay homage to. it is He that brings the warmth and the freedom to celebrate when we feel that there is nothing left...
maybe the first step isn't climbing up into the cold attic, maybe the first step is falling to my knees and asking for His strength to cultivate joy once again...
