“Does it mean something? What is the truth of this interminable, sprawling story we all of us are? Or is it absurd to ask about the truth of it as it is to ask about the truth of the wind howling through a crack under the door?”
~ Frederick Buechner
Theologically and ultimately to live is Christ, but in more immediate terms I live for the transformation that conquers every inch of our home the days after Thanksgiving. Count me an odd duck, but I love Christmas decorating—and not just the tree, but mantle, farm table, walls, buffet, chairs, bedrooms, office—the list is nearly endless. To be honest, it is my wife who envisions and implements the splashes of color and design in just the right spots, but I gladly go along for the ride. We fill the month of December with Advent readings, family festivities, and Christmas outings. I relish the sacred season to the extent that the moment the last strand of garland is neatly stowed at the end of the holiday, I begin mooning for next year. There is something defining about living with longing; we are created for eternity.
We are not allowed much more than a glimpse under the door, but if we stoop low and small enough we feel the wind of another world whisper against our cheek and pull us upward. The challenge is balancing contentment, a fitting companion for godliness, with a longing for something and Someone more. Fortunately, it is entirely possible to be at peace with our here and now while restlessly straining for the end of the journey that is just now underway. I know of a man who died with no more than pennies in his pocket and the clothes on his back, having given away a small fortune because he lived in the shadow of eternity. The true currency of this life spent in gracious acts and loving words is a mere down payment on the hereafter. Sanctify the moment by unearthing the glory in and around you, all the while steering your heart toward home.