It is whispering to my heart with a deep sense of urgency. But it is not the urgency of doing: of decorating and cleaning and buying and wrapping.
It is an urgent pleading to stop. To breathe. To seek and to listen.
And my heart responds with relief.
My mind responds by turning to Bethlehem and wondering. Wondering about that first Christmas and the King of creation becoming a newborn babe wrapped in His mother’s arms and her love.
At the invitation of my Creator I step into those days and join Mary and Joseph on their journey to Bethlehem.
At the whisper of God, I sit as if on a hill in Bethlehem and anticipate a miracle. And I remind myself that it is not only a miracle for which I yearn, but a miracle I receive daily.
On this hill in Bethlehem I await the chorus of angels and the Star and the shepherds. I anticipate the young couple whose lives are about to change.
And I eagerly anticipate the arrival of a baby who will bring hope and light into the darkness.
In many ways, Christmas can become a burden, something that overwhelms us as we attempt to create moments and memories and make it something special.
Of course, it already is something special and it doesn’t need us to do anything more to make it so. Christmas doesn’t require anything more of us than to stop, to seek, to listen. To bask in its glow.
This year, I pray that we can let Christmas overwhelm us in a whole new way: wrapped in the awe of the miracle and steeped in the wonder and anticipation of Jesus.
Do you hear the whisper of Christmas today inviting you to come and rest and wonder?