December is secretly the prettiest month, don't tell October, or November, but it is.
It sparkly, and cozy, and smells like tradition, and laughter and belonging.
December, reminds us. It reminds us that we belong to a place and people. It reminds us that promises are kept. It reminds us of who we are, what has made us, and that we've gotten so far. This far.
And lived to tell. We tell stories that, now, seem funny, or ridiculous or sweet. Or they're hard, and we look at the people around us, reminding us that people stick together. All of them tell a story about Jesus, and what the kingdom can look like.
December, wraps ups years of love, and memories and traditions that hang thick in the air and creates a space to pull all them out. To scatter everything across the floor and relive, remember, and believe in so many things.
December also gives us Hope. Hope for more sparkles and pops of laughter, hope of a new year. The turns that lie ahead can be navigated with some maps and tour guides. Hope that we have pages of empty pages.
Full of opportunity to love each other well, to grow and evolve. and laugh and cry and learn. And relearn, and fall and try and say i'm sorry. and to forgive.
I am obsessed with the idea of new years. Flickers of gold that dance as it catches the light. The laughter fills the room and cheeks are flushed from the cold and laughter and champaign.
We remember collective and hope together. We hold hands, and count down and hug each other.
We linger after mid-night. We squeeze our hands as we release them, we hold each other tighter just for a minute we hug. We just move a little slower, we in the moment a minute longer, we settle in to belonging and wear it like a favorite sweater.
December is one of my favorites. She's a gem, often not celebrated for what she brings to the table.
We don't have snow yet, to tuck us in to this season, but there is plenty of soft, sparkly light, igniting in us a feeling of what Christmas is really kind of about.
That we belong somewhere. That we can't do it alone. We are all the same. We are broken and imperfect and in desperate need of Jesus.
Sometimes, he is hard to find, and feels so far away, so we need each other to reflect him off of the pieces of ourselves.
So December just might be a front runner for the most lovely, and i think October will be okay with it, because October understand the need for home and belonging and for remembering.
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