A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it. Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing. She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises. She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day. She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden. First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. She’s quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor.
All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.
“And if he falls in love tonight / It can be assumed / His carefree days with us are over / In short, our pal is doomed.”
(Timon and Pumbaa)
I don’t remember how old I was when I first heard the saying about what assuming does. After recovering from the horror of hearing an expletive (I was sheltered, okay?), I let the actual message sink in. It made sense to me. But it didn’t stop me from assuming.
If you’ve never read Charles Dickens’ seasonal classic, A Christmas Carol, you’re missing out, my friend. (And no, watching the Mickey version doesn’t count. You don’t get, for instance, things like this: “Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail. Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know … what there is particularly dead about a door-nail.” And that’s just in the first two paragraphs. It’s a hilarious piece of work.) The miserly Scrooge is haunted on Christmas Eve by three ghosts in an effort to save his soul. They do their jobs well, and he is a changed man ever after (or duck, if you do watch the Mickey version).
Don’t you just adore Christmastime? The music, the smells, the treats, the traditions—it all swirls into one superbly jubilant festival of light in the middle of the dark. I’ve had a year now to treasure hunt the most delicious gifts for your holiday season. Wishing you a glorious riot of Christ this month as you seek Him out and are found by Him!