Earlier this month, I began to pack away our Christmas decorations. Though I was quite ready for the Christmas clutter to be cleared, I found my heart somewhat saddened that I was having to pack everything away. This is not unusual, as I do love the Christmas season more than any other, but the sadness was greater this year….

I was carefully wrapping up the individual pieces of my olive wood nativity set, and I paused when I came to the Christ child and thought:

“Why can’t I put him away?”

I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet anyway. And so I kept him out, along with the Three Wise Men. I left them in a more prominent position in the centre of our table, hanging on until Epiphany. A gentle a reminder of Immanuel’s presence and that ‘wise men still seek him’.

After Epiphany, I reluctantly packed them away too, and the only remaining reminders of Christmas were the cut-out paper snowflakes on our windows and the quaint wreath hanging on our front door.

When my Mister asked if we could possibly put the wreath away too, I decided to come up with another use for it. Cutting away the Christmas ribbon and re-arranging the pinecones, I made it into another centrepiece….A wintery scene that still hangs on to the evergreen of Advent.

Now, I am no Joanna Gaines, but this simple up-cycled decoration has been food to my soul. And I’m hanging on to this until who knows when…. perhaps the first smells of the Lenten season, when a fresh dawn awakens.

And I’m reminded that hanging on still counts for something.

A global pandemic is something we’ve never faced in our generation. The tensions surrounding it - along with so.many.other.distressing.things.occurring in many of our nations - are far more than what our human souls were made for.

So, we hang on. And keep hanging on.

What are you hanging on to that can serve as an anchor in this storm?
What hopes are you clinging to that need to be preserved and nurtured through this dark hour?
What can you create so that you don’t implode?
What or who are you lifelines?

For me, it’s the Christ child, Immanuel, God WITH us - in all our sorrow, our longing, our pain, our confusion - shining his light on a darkened pathway so our feet know where to tread next.

I’ve also found some of my anchoring through simply ‘tending my heart’. What replenishes me? What restores my soul? What is a breath of fresh air? Perhaps it’s just literally getting outdoors, or maybe it’s a phone call with a friend who will help bring a smile to my face.

Whatever those anchors are, I’m learning to name them and shamelessly pursue them, even if it’s only for a few minutes of my time. (Unexpected months of homeschooling 4 kids doesn’t leave a lot of wiggle room!)

So, friends, don’t give up. Keep hanging on. This too shall pass. We can be forged into something more beautiful if we keep our hearts tender and our hands holding on tightly to the hope of a better tomorrow. And hanging on really does count.