Every. Longing. Heart.

I write to you this afternoon from the comfort of my couch.  Presents sit finally wrapped.  Waiting for little fingers and giggled hearts. The multi-colored lights hang lit on their boughs. Twinkling. Anticipating.  Cards written carefully, draped over strings of ribbon. Offering glimmers of hearts that too sit, waiting.

This the Christmas eve.

This advent season has passed quickly.  Our preparations to spread love and joy while fulfilling, have also been taxing. They come at a price in our time, and our money. Our offerings, imperfect. And while beautiful, somehow, still are just not quite enough.

Hands are tired from

Shopping. 

  Wrapping.

       Baking.

           Decorating.

But all is restful now as the long wait is nearly over. For we celebrate the baby that comes this night. The one the shepherds followed.  The baby born to love. The love we’ve all been waiting for. The maker and sustainer of our souls. The redeemer of our hearts.

The one who knows your name.

In our advent season we long.  And yearn.  And we weep, in our journey to find the manger.  The magic and the mystery still lay hidden in the stars that point us to our holy night. Like the wise men, we come with gifts and offerings, sure:  Our desire.  Our questions.  Our hope.  Our doubt. Our blessings.  Our praise.

Our wonder.

But we also come with prayers, our needs, and sufferings.  We lay them in the hay beside Him.  As we whisper, “Amen”.

This and every Christmas we journey to this baby.  This baby given as a gift to us.  Who comes to fulfill our longing heart.  Our aching need. 

To live in us.

Through us.

With us. To redeem a broken world.  Our Immanuel.

~Merry Christmas