It’s not that I love Christmas or the “holiday season” – I hate consumerism and plastic and blow-up Santas riding tractors. But, I do love to find the special in the mundane.
Turning moments into memories. Tasks into treats. My mom taught me that.

So something stirs in me, walking along the sidewalk as a horse drawn carriage jingles past. Or driving through the park at night as the clocktower‘s star shines bright. These are cold days. Short days. End of semester days. Start of frosty winter days.

But in the midst, there are eggnog lattes, evergreen outings, stockings hung, and city hall skating. There is mulled wine and presence and parties and sparkle.
There are excuses for chocolate, for decadence, for generosity, for music.

In a world filled with sadness, with darkness and struggle.
I think I’m ok embracing the light for a while.
I’m ok with cheesy, with childish, with cheer.
I still hate shopping and stuff and the madness of it all.
But, in spite of the chaos of wrapping or civil wars, I find joy in these moments.
This is a season for pause and celebration.
For gratitude and gifts.

So, walk slowly under starry skies and twinkle-lit streets.
Sip festive drinks and love who you’re with (especially if you are alone).
Notice your surroundings, the beauty and the pain.
Be generous of spirit, not just when you’re shopping.
For many, this time is hard – filled with darkness and grief.
So walk slowly with those who mourn and gently with those who are afraid. But walk.
Don’t race from store to store right into January.
Embrace the presence of the present.
Right here.
Now.
Pause.
Receive.
Pause.
And walk slowly,
With open hands.

may we slow

and may we wait. 

may we pause

and may we receive. 

may we offer

and may we give thanks. 

and through it all, 

may we trust that new life is growing.