Let It Be Well

I want the path I leave behind me to pave the way before my boys.

I yelled at them something harsh the other night. I raised my voice because I love them too much and I get angry too easily. I asked for their forgiveness soon after, and they were quick. Forgiving. I hope we’re teaching them that. Lord knows He is teaching that to us daily.

These days are opportunities for magic. I love these final days of the year: Β the twinkling, the giving, the loving. Christ is mysterious in that way; a season for him, often celebrated regardless of him, but he still moves in it. So much real joy in giving. So much richness in being together. If that’s not Christ, I don’t know what is.

And I look behind me, at my troupe. My line of boys. The little fingers interlocked with my own.

We will take them to see the Christmas lights as they are scattered across our town, illuminating the cityscape in which we live. We will take them to see a jolly old guy (who they will definitely be afraid of). We will sing songs and laugh and drink hot chocolate and watch movies about the magic of this season.

But, little hands. They follow me. And not every day is just as magical as this. While putting together our manger scene, I explained who the characters were. The importance of them. The reason for all of this magic.

Little hands, do you see? I fall short. I yell. I am not good at this. But this baby came for us. He is coming again for us. Hosanna! Christ the King! Little hands, let me show you.

He is the magic. He is mysterious. He is the twinkling in the lights, the giving spirits of many, the laughter, the love, the gatherings. He is here. He has come.

Let it be well with me. I love them. My troupe. My little boys. I pray you worship the King with me someday.

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