So this December has not been great–I was out sick for a good deal of it, it kind of snuck up on me, and so I spent most of it either feeling terrible or being stressed out about holiday prep. Throw in not meeting with my community group or my prayer group and missing church one Sunday, and it has not been a good season for me. I’ve been dry spiritually; I’ve been irritable and self-pitying and unfocused. The Christmas spirit was, shall we say, lacking.
This is the nice thing about the liturgical tradition: It’s still Christmas until the 6th. We have 12 days to celebrate that God is with us in the person of Christ, by His Spirit–that He is with us despite our not being ready for Him, despite our broken state, that He is with us precisely because He loves us and He knows that’s when He needs to be with us most.
This year, against all the pulls of the culture I live in, I’m trying to steep in Christmas a little longer. Twelve days still doesn’t feel like long enough to remember that my true love gave, and He gives and keeps giving in spite of me.