Just about a week and a half ago, Colbie Caillat’s Christmas in the Sand album seemed ever-so relevant. In West Palm Beach it’s all about the sand tree and Sea-Suns greetings. My dear friend believes that she did in fact see Santa in his bathing suit.
I am now back in the Midwest celebrating Christmas in Wisconsin, home for the holidays. I flew into General Mitchell airport in Milwaukee and landed amongst a grey fog. The white snow covered yard that I had hoped I’d be coming home to turned out to be sunless days of peaked grass and icy mist; the kind of weather that beckons for a roaring fire in the fireplace and a hot mug to hold and warm frigid hands.
This morning I woke up to a sliver of a sunshine blaze lining the horizon. I sighed with relief knowing the sun was planning to appear today. It provided hope and relief to what had been a blistering, cold, wet week. The sun’s appearance provided the calm of a deep breathe, it felt like cool water quenching a parched body; such reprieve to this sun-spoiled Florida dweller. I reflected on the hope and relief of the sun on this peaceful, holiday season morning, but the bliss of this sun-soaked morning was such a miniscule taste of the everlasting peace that God gifted to the world many years ago. The hope, peace, and joy that the birth of Jesus brought to this world is truly incomprehensible. What liberation and call for celebration for this weary, grace-needing sinner!
Whether in the Florida sun or wintery Midwest, I choose to hold on to peaceful, hope-filled mornings like this one, because they provide tangible reminders of God’s faithfulness. Tomorrow, I will walk with into my family’s Christmas Eve service with immense gratitude remembering this morning.