Inhaling, Slow And Deep

All over the globe, people are decorating Christmas trees with their families. And I’m not.

They’re laughing together over hot cocoa with a candy cane stirring stick and whipped cream mustaches. And I’m not.

They’re wrapping presents and stuffing stockings and imagining the look of delight on their loved one’s face when they see their gift. And I’m not.

They’re curling up on the couch together, legs entangled, heads resting on each other, watching Christmas movies. And I’m not.

They’re decorating their house with lights and a mechanical Santa and a blow-up snowman and a manger scene. And I’m not.

They’re licking sticky frosting off their fingers and using the frosting to attach candy to little houses made of gingerbread. And I’m not.

They are shopping together, bags slung over arms, soaking in the garland and Christmas music and the bells and laughter of the mall Santa. And I’m not.

 

I get home from work and my cats run to greet me. And I’m not alone.

My house fills with candlelight and the voices of Christian artists singing Christmas music. And I’m not alone.

I knead dough and put cookies in the oven and deliver them to neighbors and the fire station. And I’m not alone.

I thank the cashier at the store with a warm smile. And I’m not alone.

I send an “I love you” text to someone who occupies a large space in my heart. And I’m not alone.

I go to church and look into the eyes of beautiful, imperfect people. And I’m not alone.

I open my Bible and my heart. And I’m not alone.

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