Back to the town of twinkling lights, to red-ribboned wreaths and a 50 degree cool snap to get you in the spirit. Back to neighbors who bring over plates decorated high with homemade Christmas goodies and coffee shops selling seasonal drinks in pretty red cups. Back to gaudy Christmas decorations that make you smile because you know some little girl begged for her reluctant father to put it up. Back to pine trees and greenbelt trails soon to be tred by new bicycles, light post banners proclaiming peace and every village sign lit to a glow.
I love coming back to Kingwood for Christmas.
I don't want to over-romanticize things or be too naive here (we all know those adorable little red coffee cups are the creation of a gigantic corporation and the icing on the cookies from the kids next door probably isn't fair trade), but there really is something quite charming about returning to my childhood home to celebrate the birth of Jesus with my family. To celebrate justice and peace, grace and joy, love and hope coming into our world.
I love going to church and singing about these things of God with other Christians. One of the faculty members at my college reminded me that part of being a Christian is looking for these things everywhere I go, choosing to see them. Because they are there.
Because God has put himself into everything, so that even things that are broken can be beautiful.
I was reading the story of Jesus' birth in Luke a few weeks ago and suddenly all the things I've been feeling since I worked at the homeless shelter this past summer and everything I know about Christmas seemed to collide: God first revealed the news of the Child's birth to shepherds watching their flocks. And Jesus was born in a manger, wrapped in mere cloths, the son of a Jewish carpenter. So many of the details surrounding Jesus' birth include poverty. Jesus entered into a scene of the lowly, because he came for the lowly, the poor, the oppressed.
It's interesting that despite growing up in such a lovely and genuinely wonderful community as Kingwood, I have experienced some of the most beautiful glimpses of justice and peace, grace and joy, love and hope of my life among the poor. Something inside of me has placed Christmas and the poor hand-in-hand, and I don't think they're going to stop holding on anytime soon.
When you say hope I see Jordan and when you say joy I see Aziza.
Justice...Gregory,
grace...Samuel,
and peace...Nephra.
When you say love I see Brockeyva.
The good tidings that the angels proclaimed to the shepherds are found everywhere. Everywhere. Because the things of God have become manifest on this earth in Jesus.
May those tidings truly come alive for you this Christmas, and may we all have eyes to see.
from the journey and photography of this beautiful woman
1 comment:
I admire the way in which you see the world.
I appreciate the way in which you also have eyes to see, and you have helped me and so many others do the same.
Love <3
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