I was working in my yard a few weeks ago and needed some parts for my drip irrigation system. A local WalMart is just a couple of miles away so I headed over there the night before to purchase the parts and some other items. I stepped into their large garden center and noticed they had trimmed their selections down to a bare minimum. To make room for Christmas decorations!
My middle name is NOT Ebenezer. I love the beauty of this season, even living in a place where many "snowbirds" run around in shorts and tee shirts all winter. But give me a break. I found none of my needed parts. They obviously were back in storage somewhere so the store could sell those decorations. I had to go out early the next morning and purchase the irrigation parts at a store which specializes in them. I should have started there in the first place.
A couple of years ago, I began to think about the original Christmas. I tried to separate my thoughts from the cluttered, commercialized version of our current day and go back 2,000 years. What must it have been like for the very real people whose lives were intersected by angels and thus became the cast of the drama which stands at the center of history? What did they feel? What did the unfolding mystery mean to them? I tried to enter their lives with a story that helps me think about the impact of The Birth as they may have experienced it.
I have called my story Christmas At Innermost. I hope you will join me this Sunday as it begins...
