I can’t believe I’ve gotten this far into December and have not even breathed a word about Christmas or Advent yet. So here I am, breathing some words to you about it, or more accurately, breathing some photos to you. That metaphor got stranger the further I carried it.
It was a fairly bleak day when I went out on my walk today. In the mood-creating department of the weather kitchen, this was shaping up to be a foul brew. There’s something oppressive about these days when the clouds put us on lockdown in the great outdoors. But it’s hard to get too far into the doldrums when the neighborhood has decked its halls with boughs of holly and donned its gay apparel. By the time I got home, I was singing out loud (but not too loudly) “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”
I love seeing how many different versions of the holy family there are, and usually placed right next to Santa Claus or Frosty the Snowman. I like to think of these others as sidekicks to the true hero of the season: Jesus!
As the days get shorter and the darkness eats up more of the daylight, it’s a joy to contemplate that in the midst of all of that, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.” Isaiah 9:2
Why else do we put up Christmas lights outside and put lights on our Christmas trees inside?
It’s the most wonderful time of the year!
I’ll probably delete this in the morning.
Lynniebeemuseoday 