I'm dreaming of a place where icicles hang from the gutters and everything is covered with powdery whiteness. Maybe some Christmas carolers...though honestly, I've never had carolers come to the door. But wouldn't it be beautiful, on a cold and snowy Christmas Eve, to hear an ethereal "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" wafting through the starry night?
But for the next few days in this 70-degree paradise, I am thankful for the lovely tree Becky decorated and the hope of Christmas to come.
It's so easy to forget the real reason for all of this, admist the glitter and glow of holiday shopping. I am reminded of a greater, deeper hope:
Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplish'd, that her Iniquity is pardoned. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness; prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Ev'ry valley shall be exalted, and ev'ry mountain and hill made low; the crooked straight, and the rough places plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see together; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. (Isa. 40:1-5)
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