Christmas Eve.
The day of it already starts to hum with the joy, even before it's hardly begun. It's the first thing I think in my waking up, and I stretch into the prayer that will orient my day around the Yahweh who brought the joy to the world in the first place, the manger place.
Just think of it! God wraps our injured flesh around Himself and lays down in humility to begin His rescue plan. He had everything to lose and nothing to gain....except me. You and me. Did all this for that. Keeping promises whispered to prophets and farmers and kings, who knew He was coming, just not exactly how or when, but spoke the joy out of time and ahead of time.
Redemption's bell is rung, and you can't un-ring a bell, not ever. Instead it peels, sending a ribbon of restoration and hope and peace and joy, out ahead of itself toward a dark day of non-joyful joyfulness where Godman seals the deal in blood. Peeling forward, joy continues its power play straight into death. And wins!
And there's a party. All the time, there's a party. Only, at this time of year we call the party Christmas.
And today it's Christmas Eve. And, oh the joy, the freedom joy, the peace joy, the generous joy, that wraps the last gifts, and gets tomorrow's breakfast ready, and sets the table for the feasting, and builds a fire to be ready, and heads down to the church to be together in joy with just so many others (So many! And that in itself is an entirely related and entirely other kind of joy!).....who want to let it be Christmas already!
Christmas Eve. The day vibrates with joy. It can't help itself.
Me neither.
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