The waiting game
by little red pen
I really should be cleaning the bathroom, but the house is moderately tidy, the presents are wrapped, I’ve had a peaceful breakfast, and the boys are still asleep — warm, quiet, relaxed little bodies stretched out in bed. The Cat was still awake at midnight working on a loom band and tying himself into knots with the need to get it right and get it done. The Rabbit came into my bed at 6am, but he went back to sleep with a cuddle.
I pushed too hard yesterday trying to get things done and stressing about how much Ian and I need to do in the next few weeks. It didn’t feel very Christmassy, all the worry and the chores and the panic. So, today I will try to let go a bit. Try to enjoy the sun and the anticipation and our gentle old house with the boys. Sing some carols, dig some potatoes, put out the Cointreau for Santa.
I had a sense this morning of the Christmas miracle, of the coming birth of hope and peace, of the long, anguished wait for new life and justice. It will come.