The house was cleaned and decorated. It looked its best since the previous December.
Christmas accents and decorative lights gave off their soft glow. The porch entryway was welcoming with fresh cut greenery and a lighted wreath hanging on an antique sled. Friends had helped me decorate the boughs of the Christmas tree. (Does an artificial tree have “boughs”, or merely “branches”?)
Christmas music playing over my computer should have made the house seem perfect. All looked, and sounded, very good.
Yet, I felt empty and unsatisfied. By 8 PM I’d unplugged the lights, turned off the music, and retreated to my bedroom to read a murder mystery until falling asleep.
The problem? Emptiness
My house looked great, but was empty.
This weekend however, my house will be filled as up to thirty family members and relatives gather. There won’t be enough chairs; we’ll take turns sitting down. Cups, napkins, forks, spoons and plates will end up in unusual places. Hats, jackets, shoes and boots will be thrown wherever space allows. Food will get dropped and beverages spilled.
There will be laughter, talking, pouting, and moments of uncomfortable silence. There will be outgoing people who hug and talk, and others who sit in the corner wondering if anyone will talk with them. (I’ve been in both categories – going with the hug and talk category this year. The corner gets rather lonely!)
The picture-perfect calm of my house will be turned to chaos. BUT… my house won’t feel empty!
I wouldn’t have it any other way!
Someone else created a beautiful place
In fact, he created a perfect place.
He kept adding to what he created. And after each time addition he would pause, admire his work and say “That’s Good!” But his creation felt empty. He didn’t have anyone to share it with. And that’s what he desired most.
To fill the emptiness of his perfect creation, God created us.
He had to know that we would mess up what he had perfectly designed. We’d bring chaos to his order. We’d bring brokenness to his completeness. But because of his longing for our companionship, he would rather love us in our messiness, than exist in the empty perfection of his creation.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
(Tomorrow: the Gift (???) of Loneliness)
Leave a Reply