I drove to work this morning with an endless loop litany running through my head.
i’ve let this whole Christmas thing get totally out of whack and how could that happen when i specifically pledged to keep it all in check this year i mean the list is so long and the time is so short and there’s no way to get it done it seemed so reasonable last month when i planned but then so much got added the problem must be that i need to do less but what do i cut there is regular work and the nonprofit stuff (everywhere i turn there is so much need) and there’s church work and friends and family and travel and cooking and making and wrapping and gathering and giving and oh yes! eliza is home and we’ve had no time and those christmas cards mocking me should i do labels? i’m thinking of kathy and let’s visit ed and where will i find something special for dad and did i feed the birds?
And just about that time another voice spoke, it was the strangest thing, a voice in my head that silenced the rest, a voice I intuitively knew belonged to God. Not a big booming sound but a quiet little one, a voice that sounded like me but that expressed a thought that did not originate with me, not in any way. And it said so clearly:
You are doing what I need you to do right now, Cathy. You are doing what I need you to do.
And sitting right there at a stop light at the intersection of Augusta Highway and 12th Street my whole world shifted. I realized this is Christmas—my Christmas—crazy, chaotic, exhausting. A season divinely designed, a season marked by giving.
I exhaled into it at that moment. I could feel it; I had heard it.
This is God at work. This is God with us.