Christmas starts early in this house. (Each year it seems a little sooner than the last.) And I wake up early, sitting here, looking at our three Christmas trees. The earlier Christmas starts, the more money people make, the more commercial it can become.
But the earlier we start, the holier the outcome.
Between candy cane clusters placed excitedly with two year old hands and fisher price Jesus in the plastic cart…under the blinking tree…you can feel the secular merge with the holy and it’s magical and meaningful.
Faith was designed, intended for the masses. It’s natural for the worlds to collide; this odd pairing of elf and manger.
All glitter, all one star.
But it’s fitting, because my life is all mess, lovely, and smelly, and faulty. And too often I say no to God. I place him in the manger, holy baby perfect, and deserving, right into the middle of the smelly mess.
I turn him away every time I’m too busy.
And yet his perfect grace lights me up, washes the grime off, and decorates me from the inside out.
I shine glitter, sacred glitter, holy elves.
Santa giving, Nici giving, God’s grace given.
It’s for the masses and it’s full of meaning, and I’m fairly certain the angels rejoice when each tree is lit – a holy secular merger of peace, love, family, and faith.
Lit up bright with elves and candy cane magic, reminding us of the not so plastic Jesus in a manger.