A Stirring

It's 38 degrees and completely dark outside.  Wade and the boys are roasting marshmallows as part of a fire-building badge project Isaac is working on for Boy Scouts.  I'm staying inside and sipping tea.  And one of my precious pink-cheeked striplings just brought me a caramel-golden marshmallow.  They're sweeter when they're outside and I'm in (the boys, not the mallows).

A feeling of ennui has been hanging over me today.  Maybe I'm looking forward to Christmas vacation and visiting too much to be thrilled by today's mundane to do list.  Maybe I've eaten too many cookies (and marshmallows) today.  Maybe I need to take a nap.  Or a walk.

But this sense isn't just today.  Advent is, second to summer, my favorite time of year.  I love the lights, the smells, the tastes, the music, the candles, the feeling of it all.  And I just haven't felt as Christmassy as usual.  I feel watery, like chocolate milk left sitting too long, with all the good stuff settled to the bottom.  I wish to be stirred.

Part of me wants to "fix" myself from the outside in -- steep a cup of tea, run a warm bath, light some candles, sit down with a good book, I'll be sure to feel better soon.  But the better part of me knows external comforts won't significantly alter my inner drear.  I'm craving a swift kick to the heart, a shot of passion, a reckless act of love, the ability to truly bring joy to the world.  And here I sit feeling blah.

Well, at least feeling blah is an impetus to write with some semblance of passion.

And yet I know I can't rely just on feelings to keep my heart warm and my outlook bright.  My words and actions must show love, even when my head is foggy and my body shlumpish.  Perhaps this is an opportunity to love more selflessly, a chance to deny myself a dose of melancholy and love exuberantly in spite of whatever doldrums may hover, not as a fake show of cheeriness, but as a faithful witness to the Light that shines in the darkness, a stirring.

I wish you all a truly joyous Christmas, infused with the joy, hope, peace and love of the One who loves us enough to die for us.  May that thought stir us all to praise Him and pass on the secret of the season.