Already I’m eager
for turkey and stockings,
for pumpkin pie next to apple pie,
for mulled cider and secretive shopping,
for “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and “Silent Night.”
But first let me remember: no messenger or angel,
no holiday feast or Christmas pageant,
no gift-shopping or gift-wrapping,
no gathering or traveling
for the One Holy God
whose life of reckless loving
and whose endless love for reconciling
are above all, through all, and in all
— but most of all greater than —
the festive trappings.
Let me remember now
so that I can repeat it again
amidst the jingly ads and holiday frappes:
God is my hope and my joy, my comfort and my surprise!
This I will seek through the anticipation and the busyness,
among the pageant angels and UPS messengers,
despite holiday blues or family chaos:
God my hope!
God my joy!
God my comfort!
God my surprise!