Christmas Eve has arrived. And after a frantic end to the year, I love the way the pace finally slows. There is food being prepared, conversations wandering, and the simple delight of family sharing space.
This year, Christmas Eve finds us in a borrowed home overlooking Lake Wānaka in New Zealand. It includes a table large enough for our son and his wife, a joyful grandson, a daughter who has travelled a long way from London to be here, and extended family arriving and settling in nearby. The windows of our house hold the lake and the sky. The house, and my heart, feel full in the best way.
Christians speak of this night as the coming of Emmanuel; God with us. Not a distant or abstract deity, but One present in the middle of ordinary life. This is what with us looks like this year: a shared table, food offered with a little less fuss, small gifts tucked into Christmas stockings, and weather ten degrees cooler than home back in Queensland.
In a world that often insists Christmas is about striving and more stuff, I am grateful for the quieter invitation; to notice where God has already drawn near. In the people we love, the place we have been given, the moment we are living. Tonight, this is enough for me.
Wishing you a gentle and blessed Christmas, wherever you find yourself this evening. And, may you know something of God with you.
— A gentle reflection for a hurried world, on Christmas Eve.
On the Blog! 
Leave a reply to jeaniemacnamaraart Cancel reply