Tracking

As I sit the write this, it is officially twenty-five minutes into Christmas Day. It is a weird feeling mostly because it came upon me so quickly. If I didn't have a pile of things behind me that now belong to me, but that I did not buy (I know I didn't steal them), well, then I just wouldn't believe it to be true. There are just an overage of things going on; for there's a wedding, buying a house, thoughts on how to start a church, school, work and why Christmas itself is a thing to be considered. And there it is: a consideration.

I was going to go to bed, but decided instead to see where my book is at this very moment. I was given a gift card for my birthday and decided on a book to use it on. Turns out, right now, it is in Illinois. What a funny thing we can do: Track packages. We can know exactly where they are and what will come of them and when at any given point of the day. Oh if it was only that simple! Do you know what lengths are taken for us to know? Me either, but I'm sure it's more work than necessary just so I can know where my book is in it's journey to me.

But yet, the Baby knew before He was here where He would end up. His life and death were tracked from the beginning of time (or before it, for They didn't know time) but He created it and entered into it anyway. Did he count the days, like on my tracking website? Three days until delivery it tells me. Why, yes, three days did delivery me. But Jesus, in that manger, nursing at his mother's breast, humbly accepting bare survival from a world He would save...oh what a knowledge. `Sleep in Heavenly peace, indeed! I don't know how He did, but I can assure you that I will because of Him.

 I don't like thinking about where I'm going. I'm glad I can't track my life. It's just simply too much to think about. But there is one destination I know I'll arrive at, even if I can't know how many days I have left. The beautiful truth for those who have given their lives to the Christ is this Earth is the closest to Hell we'll ever get. The sad truth for those who just can't believe that a  King would enter the world the way Jesus did and certainly can't believe He would leave the world the way He did...well, this Earth is the closest to Heaven they will ever get.

So tonight, I pray that you know the Baby as well as He knows you;. that you know that the Creator of the Universe, who became a helpless babe, came into His creation to restore us from our helpless estate.

Amen.

luxury.

I have four minutes before I should walking out my door for work. That means I have four minutes to enjoy luxury. Luxury of what? I could sit in silence. I could read for a few minutes. I have chosen to write about absolutely nothing. I have four--two--minutes of Sabbath. And Lord knows I need them and will enjoy them.
Sabbath has been on my mind lately; wondering when or if I'll ever make myself have one. It's the commandment that God spent the most words explaining in his Covenant with us. It's the one things we've struggled with since the Fall: How do we not do anything? Of course that's not the point of Sabbath. It's, to me, a day to reflect, a day to unproductive, but that doesn't always mean doing nothing. The greatest moments where I'm reeling in what God is doing and reflecting and relaxing are among people. Among God's people.
I've come to understand Sabbath, not a luxury but a commandment, is a luxury only because we've never done it. And I'm convinced it goes beyond just relaxing. I can enjoy Sabbath at a movie, or enjoying food and fellowship, or recording music, or doing this blog.
And I'm two minutes overtime, just when I might have had something to say. See? Work always wins.