Is the New Year starting to feel old yet? I never really enjoyed New Year’s. It seems to mark the end of Christmas more than anything. January 2nd I was making my way to work and witnessed a tragic phenomenon. Along the side of the road there were Christmas trees laying on their side. It was the picture of something no longer wanted, of the glory of Christmas forgotten. Christmas trees were never meant to be left on their side waiting for the jaws of the garbage truck to envelope them.
Then there was the morning I turned on the news. The images of children being broken by the violence in Gaza made me feel guilty over the comforting cup of coffee I had in my hand. The death of John Travolta’s son reminds us that rain falls, even on celebrities.
Checking my email. More bad news. Turns out a dear lady has cancer in the late stages.
The New Year is starting to feel very old.
But going back to Christmas…It was the night of the Christmas play at my church, after my husband sang his solo, after the actors stopped being nervous about forgetting their lines, after our church congregation stopped watching the story of Christ’s birth being reenacted on our Multi Purpose Room’s stage and we responded in song. While I tried to plod through the awkward range of "O Holy Night" I felt so aware of the lyrics. It caused me to solemnly swear to keep the reality that Christ took on flesh for me at the forefront of every day in the coming year.
"His law is love and His gospel is peace.
I want my life to be built on that, good news which brings peace, the end of chaos.
"A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices."
If you’re only at day seven of the New Year and fealing entrenched in this ‘weary world’, remember that "yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."
