A Five Minute Gift

Right now we're at our son and daughter-in-law's home, getting ready for Christmas. All of our children are here, both our kids by birth and our children by marriage to our children. Our two-and-a-half year old granddaughter is so wound up she can hardly contain herself. Our newborn granddaughter is two weeks old today; she is a beautiful holiday gift. After over two months of ill health, my wife is much, much improved. Between holding grandchildren and managing the kitchen, she's in her holiday element. The healing she has received is a great gift to all of us.

Later this afternoon we'll attend Christmas Eve services at one of the most dynamic United Methodist churches in the country. By this time tomorrow this house will be a sea of wrapping paper and bows. All of this will pass, though, wonderful and ideal as it all is. As much as we love the trappings of a perfect holiday, there is something that stands alone without all the holiday externals.

Whatever you're doing on Christmas Day, however good it is or however stressful it is, whether you're in a gang of people or alone, whether surrounded by the materialism of the season or in Spartan circumstances, give yourself five minutes of quiet somewhere. In a brief moment of stillness, focus on this - The God of the universe, the originator of the very concept of DNA, the One who sees as a comprehensive whole that which we often see as chaos, chose to exit everything that is God to become one of us. And God did this wholly and completely for you. That can't be contained in any wrapping paper, decorated tree, or string of lights. And it lasts longer, too.

Merry Christmas. I'll see you around the next bend in the river.