I posted something in this space just two days ago, Scriptures that had been on my mind for weeks, and thought I’d woven them into my words for the season. But then God brought this to mind this Christmas Eve morning…
We’re standing in the kitchen. I move fluidly from dishwasher to counter, bending, stacking–bowls, dishes, cups, goblets.
Husband is at the cupboard behind me. I rotate, wordless, and hand him his favorite glass-he replaces it to the shelf and continues swallowing his vitamins.
I interrupt his healthy intake once again, this time with the rainbow-colored stack of Ikea cups. Without a word, he fits them on the shelf next to our stash of kid-safe plastics.
I love this morning routine–coffee pot steaming and gurgling, the bird clock chiming it’s 8 am hour–the robin, I think–and the garbage truck outside our window beep-beep-beeping.
It all feels so safe–full of comfort and joy. The silent, sure sounds of an easy morning, a gift to me.
How restful to be here, next to my humming husband, confident of his presence, his help, his silly whistling to the birds, the all-of-it that makes this early quiet time feel like we been doing this for a thousand years.
God reminds me of a soul prayer I had at the beginning of Advent , not a spoken request, a written non-lament (in the book I never finished). It was a prayer of wondering, “I don’t know what I want, but this is what I think I need”–and I realize the answer is standing right here next to me.
The quiet feeling like a well worn pair of old warm slippers, pouring my juice while I make the coffee, humming ‘Frosty the Snowman’ while I unload the dishes…It’s a quiet symphony of comfort and joy, a gift to my soul from my Saviour–a married Christmas.