Silent Nights, Holy Times

The whirrrrring, geeeeeezing sound of not one, but two remote control cars is masked outside my door as I steal away to this quiet space in the study.  Quiet is a relative term. It’s more like the muffled, not-completely-deafening roar of a jumbo jet revving its engines while one watches on the other side of the airport glass.

There’s a Disney movie blaring in the other room (even though I requested we turn off the surround sound) and distant conversations in the kitchen about lunchmeat and sourdough and ‘where are the chips!?’

Son and daughter-in-law arrived Christmas night with the 5 grandchildren and it has been Family Time All the Time in the Collins household. Each one of the grandchildren is a delight and a joy, unique and interesting, full of life. But I’m not, ahem, used to so much intense input around the clock. Color me grateful for a few stolen moments here to collect my thoughts.

As their visit comes to a close and the troops gather to leave, an effort not unlike mounting Hannibal’s campaign to traverse the Alps, I think it’s best to get out of the way.

I will miss them: there have been moments of precious quiet in front of the fire, Grandpa reading stories at bedtime, hilarious laughter at the Children’s Museum, Christmas polkas with the Aunt and Uncle and an especially peaceful, holy night on Christmas Eve.

As my son is fond of repeating, not “it’s all good,” but “It’s all God.”

It’s all God–the gentle, warm times around a fire, the snuggling in a blanket with a story, the worship together on Christmas Sunday, the uproarious ness of children’s games and laughter. The wonder of watching birds outside the window and the tears in a heart-to-heart conversation during the stolen moments in a quiet car.

Yes, He is Emmanuel, God with us. The King who calls us in the middle of the Where We Are Now to the Where We Really Belong.

That is the pull I feel–longing to listen to God’s voice, to soak in His word, to wash in moments of worship and journal my thoughts. It’s the kingdom planted in my soul, that tension between the what is and what is not…. I’ve had every intention each morning of my family’s visit to steal away for some quiet time with Jesus, but it was not to be.

Instead, I find in these in-between times of Christmas and New Years there are still Holy Times, nonetheless. He is truly God Everywhere–at the Children’s Museum, by the fire, on the trampoline–hooray!–at the window with the birds. He is God with us.

Happy (almost) New Year, my friends. May you see Him everywhere you are.
~~~~~~~

6 thoughts on “Silent Nights, Holy Times

  1. I get the desire to “steal away each day” when with the delightfully noisy grandkids. I never seem quite able to do it either, so I revel in the activity and love of them all and when all is said and done I love the quiet, even though I cry when they leave, or we leave. They are my heart. But oh, the older I get the more I need and crave the quiet.

    Like

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