Sweet things

I made some Christmas goodies last week. My eyes were filled with the rich, beautiful colors of fruit and nuts; my kitchen was filled with sweet and buttery smells.

It reminded me of last December when one of my very best friends was visiting. Little did I know that she was about to walk down a terrible path, a sad one, filled with heartbreak after heartbreak. We stood in my kitchen and cooked until late in the night. We laughed and creamed butter, chatted and chopped fruit. We cooked batches of fruitcake, cookies, fudge - so she could return home laden with Christmas treats. We loved on each other and had a wonderful time.


My goodness, she's been through it. She had a hell of a year, but she's made it through, is working through her pain, is doing the hard work of grieving and healing. My heart is still deeply saddened when I think about her situation, and it is with bittersweet anticipation that I plan this year's Christmas treats - such a poignant reminder of those jolly hours last year, the hope that things would still work out, the hope of reconciliation and peace.

Peace. Prince of Peace. Everlasting peace. Everlasting King. God with us. Phrases that run through our Christmas celebrations. And yet so many of us have deep gaps in our lives, deep fissures into which we can easily find ourselves falling; falling into sadness, frustration, fear. And maybe not our own pain, but the pain of people we love, people whose burdens we help carry.

It snowed today. As Tim and I made a trip to the grocery store and settled into our comfy clothes and warm house this afternoon, I thought about the things that make me feel cozy and comforted, the things that bring peace to me.

Snuggling with Egg.
Listening to beautiful music.
Reading the Psalms.
Spending time with my best friends.
Cooking a lavish meal.

I wish I could give everyone I love an extra dose of peace this season, enough to carry you through your lonely moments, the times when you're missing loved ones, when the losses of life seem to stack up like cordwood outside your door, when you can't seem to pull yourself out of sadness. If you're struggling, I pray that the lights of the season will remind you that the holiday is not just about family and fun and food, but that it is about God reaching out his hand to us and giving us the gift of reconciled relationship with Him. May you find peace in His love. May you find peace in those who love you. May you find peace in the joy of beautiful moments.