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Plop on comfy, red, oversized chair in corner of living room. Mug of second cup of coffee (I am being sooooo bad this holiday weekend!). Girls down for naps, although I hear my oldest, the one I’ll call Firefly, I hear her voice giving the walls a voice. “ABC’s” and her little talkings to herself as she imagines much these days. I think the wee one is dreaming now after a long wrestling against sleep.


The tree is up. Not quite finished yet, but it’s standing straight with garlands and ornaments gracing its boughs. The star is glittering at the top . . . a little wobbly and lop-sided, but holding on so far. Other than the almost-finished tree, I am surrounded by Christmas chaos.  There are boxes and tissue paper and those little packing peanuts and stockings and pine needles everywhere as Firefly was so intensely excited and “helped” unpack the cold, attic boxes (Oh, but I’m so glad she did!). In the midst of all the excitement of beautifying and decorating, the rest of the house has been completely neglected. How does it fall apart so fast?! There is laundry piled high, I’m not sure that I made my bed, and I can feel the suffocating threat of the stress of Christmas rising up my torso, approaching my throat. What am I doing, sitting here in this big, comfy corner while the chaos is encroaching on every other nook and cranny of my house and heart?


I am taking a breath. I am refocusing.


Because in a grace-filled moment, I realized that if I don’t stop now, the sales, gift wrapping, parties, cooking, sweets, dazzling lights, and frenzied mall traffic will drown out the stillness and peace of all we’re attempting to celebrate.










A child king.


Don’t leave us to our distracted, frenetic selves this Christmas season.


Come, oh come, our Emmanuel. Fill us full.



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