Our snowbound house

This year, I’ve been too distracted with just having moved house to feel very festive. Yesterday I thought about missing our annual Christmas caroling to inmates at San Quentin and felt my first pang. Instead, I’m doing un-Christmasy things like hanging pictures and getting our license plates. I’m also busy reading entries for a writer’s contest (from the blog I’ve been guest hosting for the last two months for Women of the Harvest’s online magazine). The entries came from missionary women serving in literally every continent – including one who took a mission trip to Antarctica – and I don’t know how in the world we’ll ever choose a winner.

Today it snowed more than it has here in years. I’ve missed snow! I haven’t experienced all four seasons since I lived in Europe. The snow today, with the hope of a white Christmas, sure helped put me in the mood. Steve took this photo just a few hours after the storm started, and it’s supposed to continue all night. We had fun walking around in the powdery stuff, making snow angels, shooting snowballs through our basketball hoop, and coming inside to a warm house and hot cocoa with melted marshmallows.

Yesterday I asked myself when I’ll find time to reflect on the significance of Christmas. I sure made time today to walk in the snow. I realize I posed the wrong question. It’s not a matter of finding time but of making time. If that means I don’t bake Christmas cookies, so be it. With a quiet holiday this year, away from old friends and family, I have no excuse. Maybe being snowed in will be the best way to meditate on the meaning of the Incarnation.