“Precious memories, how they linger

How they ever flood my soul

In the stillness, of the midnight

Precious sacred scenes unfold”

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”  John 14:27 (NIV)

As we enter into December, thankfully watching yet another Black Friday fade into the oblivion of orgiastic spending and want, I am grateful.  I am hopeful.  I am expectant.  I am content.

Almost every morning I find myself looking expectantly at our bedroom door as I read, write, pray and catch up on the news of the morning.  I look expectantly because Megan lays behind that door, finishing up her night’s sleep.  I look expectantly because when that door opens, my air is filled with the beautiful sounds of her morning beginning.  The turning on of under-counter kitchen lights.  The click of the Keurig as she makes her first cup of coffee; 12 ounces, topped off with just the right amount of Vanilla Almond Creamer from Aldi.  The sound as she walks by to check the thermostat, making sure that I have not turned the heat up from 66 degrees to something insane like 67.  I look expectantly because as my years grow, the preciousness of my beautiful wife, our three amazing children, the home that God has blessed us with and the fleeting days of these times become more and more clear.  

I choose to allow the preciousness of gratitude to drown out the noise of “need,” created by algorithms tracking my searching and viewing habits.  The sinful desire of want pushing me past the true and genuine needs of those around me.  I reflect on those Christmases as a young boy when money was tight, and my family made plaster mold gifts that were given when funds were lacking.  Those gifts hanging on walls of precious family members for decades, confirming the preciousness of the giver over the gift.

As we enter this most hope confirming of all Seasons, I look upon the little white church that our youngest daughter methodically built with me for her mom.  I look at the cutting, then charcuterie boards my son and oldest daughter carefully cut from precious poplar boards.  Then sanded and finally burned with Trinity logos and family and friends names.  I recall those precious moments that have resulted in precious memories.

I don’t recall one moment of frenetic shopping.  I recall many, many precious moments of holding hands with Megan or our kids as we viewed Christmas lights.  I don’t recall the stresses of gifts ‘needing’ bought.  I recall the preciousness of the sound of mixer and laughter of icing Megan’s incredible cutout cookies.  I don’t recall much of the stuff.  I remember the laughter as we watched Elf, Home Alone or Christmas Vacation.  (You serious, Clark?). I remember those precious memories.  How they linger.  

I look forward to the precious memories that will unfold in this coming Season, when God’s son was gifted to a dark and hopeless world.  I look forward to watching eagerly as our bedroom door opens again each morning.  Never taking for granted that a day will come when the mundane of today, is the preciousness of tomorrow.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”  Isaiah 9:6 (KJV)

Precious peace I wish for you.