I am getting my house ready for Christmas. Yes, I know it is a little late, but I did not start today. I decided I would go for the "deep" clean a couple of weeks ago. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That may have been poor planning on my part, as my schedule has not allowed for a lot of time at the house, and the depth required for this "deep" clean was more than I imagined. It now seems that I am in the middle of an archaeological dig. That makes it even more difficult as I get distracted by interesting, fun, strange, troubling and wonderful historical relics that I have found as I sorted and sifted through drawers, shelves, boxes and stacks.
I am sure that this will ultimately be a good thing. But tonight my house looks like my past has exploded and is scattered in pieces all over the place. Every room. Every piece of furniture. Covered. Some of my past will survive. Some will be recycled. A whole lot will end up at the dump (landfill for the more proper among us).
It is not beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here.
Not the kind of Christmas I enjoy as I walk through at the malls or on the busy streets of shops lined with twinkling lights, magnificent displays, and perfect trees, or in the beautifully, tastefully decorated churches I love to worship in.
Maybe I'll get there after I get to the bottom of everything.
But for now it is chaos. A mess. Nothing is in its place. Some of this stuff doesn't even have a place.
Kind of like when Jesus really came. Things were a mess, centuries in the making. Wars, oppression, poverty, prejudice, perversion of God's way.
Hopeless. A mess. chaos. History lay heavily on the present.
And then He came. Just a baby, at first, like the rest of us. Born right in the middle of it on that first Christmas.
Nothing was in the right place.
Some things and some people had no place.
Including Jesus.
But the deep clean had begun, not to be finished overnight.
And it still goes on.
But ultimately, it will be a good thing. The best thing ever.
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