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And so it has begun, as it does every year
a relentless gift-search for someone our list says we hold dear.
A bright spectrum of lights are strung and hung in malls, on homes,
each Christmas tree, all designed to rejuvenate us, leading us to buy
the thing to cross off the list, make our lives stress-free.

But somewhere in our deepest hearts, innate within our souls,
there lives within us a spirit not dependent upon bankrolls,
that longs to rest by the manger-sized space
forged by a single star, the resting place that calls us all
to kneel in worship, heeding the call to remember who we are –
a timeless place of gratitude for the One who heals each pain-filled scar.

The rampant throng of seekers, at stores from coast to coast,
others seated before computer screens, desperate to find the most
by spending the least of what we have; we end up buying useless stuff,
a delicate bracelet, a toboggan hat, a thing that says you cared enough
to give the very best.  But inside of us we know that there will be no rest.
Weary of the need to smile with joy, to act as though we are blessed.

Perhaps this year we’ll make a change; no toys, nor things that break.
We’ll spend ourselves, be prodigal with our love, for mercy’s sake.
The bland and drawn-out season that began with Halloween
and ends with January sales to buy the stuff we hadn’t seen.
The season of giving ourselves with abandon, never counting the cost,
is the endless season of love and peace – things we thought we’d lost.

I wish my friends at this time of celebration, gifts money cannot buy,
and to all the others I don’t know, may your hearts too, be lifted high.
High enough to see the star, and hear angels sing the song of peace,
that is never withheld from anyone, offered to all who long for release
from the pent-up feelings of hate, a separation from our neighbors;
none of us need suffer, our lives are much more than warring labors.

We are all Children of the King, the Creator of all that is or will be,
so may our first thoughts in this blessed time be not of the tree,
nor of eight days of gifts and treats, or memories of our separation;
instead, let’s find the songs that we can sing together in celebration
of the love that was born for all of us, that still walks with us today..
Let us open our doors, our hearts, our minds; let’s give ourselves away.


May you, all my Gentle Readers, and those who do not know of me, nor I of them, have a life of peace, love, hope, joy – all those things that are at the center of the abundance of enough. . .