For A Weird Christmas

I stepped outside early this morning to put out the garbage. I was utterly surprised to see a rainbow.

There was no rain; hadn't been any yet this morning. 

The rain came a few minutes later, and it poured all day. A warm and weird Christmas Eve.

A friend with a paint sprayer came over this morning. Our space, which was bare drywall this morning, was transformed by this evening.

And yes, I bought the very last Christmas tree.

We'd all been so worried. "I can't believe I'm sitting beside our tree tonight," Vava sighed before bed. 

"I thought it was a No, but God said Yes," Sam replied.

Yeah.

He does that sometimes.

Keeps us waiting.

Keeps us looking up.

And fills our lives with a dizzying array of contrasts.

I think God puts contrast all over the place, and probably for the same reason all authors do - to make us look twice, pay attention, see more clearly.

A rainbow before the rain.

An empty room, filled.

A usually full house, empty.

A king in a manger.

Poor shepherds and wealthy wise men.

The prince of peace to a weary world.

Lights shine in the dark, windows glow warm against the chill, wet night.

It's a beautiful story. A story that has rolled on and on through the ages. My story. Your story. A story that has maybe had a few sadder twists, lonelier spots this year than we're used to.

A story the author entered that first Christmas night. I imagine the loneliness and difficulties he encountered were quite a bit different than what he was used to.

Wishing you a peaceful night and a joyous morning, friends. And good reading, wherever you are.

xo.