Christmas is my favorite time of year.
Despite the chaos and consumerism of the holiday there is something so warm and real and festive that burrows down deep in your heart. I say that with all sincerity but, believe me, Christmas is never perfect in my home either. It’s a time of year that brings out all the warmest and hardest of things.
I mean, right? The holiday is filled with family. Even if it’s not, there’s the obligation that we’re not measuring up. There should be family. More of something, less of something else. Worn out relationships and threadbare nerves. Sometimes expectations far exceed reality and we’re left feeling depressed, discouraged and disappointed.
I get it. My husband sometimes has to work on Christmas. This is going to be one of those years. Unfortunately people don’t stop dying just because it’s Christmas. But I’m over the moon excited because I get to share my Christmas with one of my nieces and nephews.
If you have followed here for long, you know I have a sister who is lost. She is as far from Christ as a soul can be, and has been lost to all of us for a long time. Even her own small children. I get the extreme honor to host and celebrate them in my home this year. A few more kids to love on Christmas and I cannot wait.
But as we begin this Advent season, this season of Christmas, let us remember the story. The reason we celebrate.
Today’s Challenge: Read the story of the birth of Jesus. Read it yourself, read it as a family. It is found in Luke 2.