Fresh powder, leaks quiet from the heavens, dressing the barren branches white. Moon's light spills across snowflakes...each one unique. Pure. Perfect. Beautiful. But soon humanity will make its mark and all that will be left is a muddied mess to gaze upon.
In a matter of days the hustle and bustle of the kitchen will commence. Each soul within these walls-unique; each one bringing to the table their own scrumptious creations, gifts, brokenness.
Ironstone will line the planks while hungry men in collar shirts jump into chairs and wide-eyed little ones wait for pie. We'll gobble Jell-o with cheese, argue about the correct way to smother potatoes with gravy. Votes will be cast for the annual pie contest. Laughter will ring as bellies and hearts fill. At the close of the day we may play a game of Monopoly that will last until the wee hours.
But the best part will be when each one sits in the middle of the circle and words of love, grace, and life are poured upon them.
We know each others brokenness. For a lifetime we've gazed into the faces of those around this table and we know the fears. Regrets. Struggles. Pain. The words that we wish could be taken back and the words that remain unsaid.
Our family is far from perfect.
In our own way we've all made a muddied mess. The babies of the family remind us of lives unscathed but they too will join the brokenness of this world one day.
No one escapes it.
It's relentless.
But - God. He's not afraid of a mess. From dirt he erected his most prized creation: Man - made in His own image. He takes ugly, messy, broken people and brings beauty, order, wholeness to those who trust him. Shattered hearts get pieced back together. Yet, He allows the cracks to remain pouring out His light so others too can see...have hope.
As I sit at the table this year I can choose to focus on all that's wrong, all that's not as it should be, disappointment, pain, the possible diagnosis or I can choose to trust that God is etching something beautiful. I can be grateful in the middle of messy knowing He holds us in His hands.
Until then...
Jessie
In a matter of days the hustle and bustle of the kitchen will commence. Each soul within these walls-unique; each one bringing to the table their own scrumptious creations, gifts, brokenness.
Ironstone will line the planks while hungry men in collar shirts jump into chairs and wide-eyed little ones wait for pie. We'll gobble Jell-o with cheese, argue about the correct way to smother potatoes with gravy. Votes will be cast for the annual pie contest. Laughter will ring as bellies and hearts fill. At the close of the day we may play a game of Monopoly that will last until the wee hours.
But the best part will be when each one sits in the middle of the circle and words of love, grace, and life are poured upon them.
We know each others brokenness. For a lifetime we've gazed into the faces of those around this table and we know the fears. Regrets. Struggles. Pain. The words that we wish could be taken back and the words that remain unsaid.
Our family is far from perfect.
In our own way we've all made a muddied mess. The babies of the family remind us of lives unscathed but they too will join the brokenness of this world one day.
No one escapes it.
It's relentless.
But - God. He's not afraid of a mess. From dirt he erected his most prized creation: Man - made in His own image. He takes ugly, messy, broken people and brings beauty, order, wholeness to those who trust him. Shattered hearts get pieced back together. Yet, He allows the cracks to remain pouring out His light so others too can see...have hope.
As I sit at the table this year I can choose to focus on all that's wrong, all that's not as it should be, disappointment, pain, the possible diagnosis or I can choose to trust that God is etching something beautiful. I can be grateful in the middle of messy knowing He holds us in His hands.
Until then...
Jessie
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