Why the latter?
Probably because calendars are full and I am busy spinning and jumping from role to role and the kids' first weekday off of school is not until Christmas Eve and my refrigerator desperately needs cleaning but I don't want to do it and what I really want to do is sit down with my family and watch Polar Express and White Christmas but we haven't gotten a chance to yet.
Or because I need to go the grocery store about every fifteen minutes.
Maybe because work collides with the wonder, hustle-and-bustle with the holy, rush with the reverent.
And I am caught somewhere in between.
Rushing here, there, and everywhere from Pre-K to the Retirement Home, up to my elbows in soapy water one minute, sitting peacefully at the feet of my Savior by the lights of the Christmas tree the next.
Don't you wish you could go back in time to Bethlehem that starry night?
I close my eyes and try to imagine the scene.
The grandest collision of all. Heaven tearing into earth. God in human form. His voice a baby's cry.
Angel song exploding, prophets proclaiming, kings journeying, shepherds kneeling.
A young girl becoming a mother in the most mysterious of ways, carrying both a baby and a burden.
The prophet told her a sword would pierce her soul.
Can you even imagine what she would live to experience?
I think of my own son, then I shudder to think.
But this holy mystery, this wondrous birth, this humble entrance of our Savior - the King of Kings and Lord of Lords - God coming right down to us to die in our place, it is what we celebrate.
So I find scattered moments amidst the rush to sit and ponder. To worship Jesus and marvel at the wonder of it all.
Then I get back to work, my heart longing to stay in Bethlehem.
There is so much to do.
And it must be done.
But later I will find pause and kneel at the manger throne once more.
And one day I will spend eternity worshiping my Savior, kneeling at His heavenly throne.
Even so, come once and for all, Lord Jesus.
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