“’Sometimes,’ said Pooh, ‘the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.’”
~ A. Milne
Our holiday this year was great . . . amazing actually. Many of you know what it’s like to have your children away at college and then, suddenly, at Christmas the whole gang is together again. Quite frankly, it’s magical.
For me, the pain of separation feels especially sharp because our family situation – living in rural Alaska and homeschooling for so many years – knit our family closely together. So when I knew our middle son was finishing that last day of school, our youngest was closing his books, and our daughter was on her way shortly on a flight from Virginia . . . well, I could hardly sleep.
We had such a great Christmas Eve and Day, filled with the traditions we embraced those many years in Alaska. But as the boys now start school again and our daughter flies back to her college life, I realize the memories I’ll treasure most from this Christmas aren’t the perfectly planned meals, the opening of thoughtfully chosen gifts or the addition of our decorations to a new-to-us house.
I’ll treasure the everyday times.
Watching “The Polar Express” in our PJs, eating homemade pizza. Picnic-ing after a trip to the zoo. Watching nonstop football together on New Year’s Day, everyone cheering for their favorite team. Playing switched-up teams of Taboo around the kitchen table.
Talking and talking . . . and talking.
I think Jesus and His disciples must have felt this way. While we read about Jesus’ divine miracles and the profound truths He taught, I have to believe that, in His fully-human state, He did lots of everyday things, too. Did He experience joy as He sat down for a very everyday dinner with His disciples? Did He look around the table and think, “Ahhh. . .this is happiness.”? Did He feel sadness when one of the disciples was missing for a meal or was absent from a discussion?
We are told that He knows our joys – our everyday being with the people we love. And He knows our sorrows – when the everyday changes and we don’t want it to. He understands.
So enjoy the quiet dinner with your spouse. The walk with your grandchild. The call from your mother. These are the everyday moments.
And I’ll store up my Christmas moments, treasuring them as my everyday changes yet again. And then I’ll treasure the new everyday moments too.
Because it’s all everyday beautiful.