My hometown shines at holiday time. You can count on a snow globe of white stuff dusting rooftops and tree branches like a Currier and Ives card. Les and I loved on a wintry day boot scootin’ down Main Street in our Charles Dickens wannabe of a town. Music drifted through the air, confirming that “it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere we go . . .” Covered carriages with holly-adorned horses await passengers. In the center of town is a mill pond with a network of “tridges” (bridges with attitude) that allow you to walk on water—or in this case, ice—as you make your way around a winter wonderland of ducks, geese, and Christmas glitter. A gazebo and benches are available for the stouthearted. I prefer to duck into the coffee shop and wrap my hands around a chubby cup of cocoa.
Yep, I love this season of bulky sweaters and fuzzy mittens . . . but not enough that I want it to stay all winter, all the time. Just enough to fill my holiday tank.
It’s easy to get caught up in the nostalgia of the holidays (if not the materialism) and neglect the heart of the matter. It’s not about gifts, but the Gift-giver. It’s not about the lights, but the inextinguishable brilliance of Christ. It’s not about the nostalgia, but our current access to the very throne of God because of Christ’s entry into our world.
Talk about “gift”—we’ll be unwrapping that one until glory.
From Time to Rejoice © 2011 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.