December is the month of expectation. It’s ‘full of promise,” right?
And expectation seems to be defined by its connection to promise.
When you are old enough to not want to baubles and tripe on 25th of the 12th month, you want what is just out of reach and can’t be found at a store. Oh, that it could. Life would be magic and simple. But, no.
You want other things…sustained contentment, family harmony, a faith that banishes worry–once and for all. Other things.
You want to scream out, “God, promise me!” When it seems he’s not really tuning in, you try to yell it to the universe. Evidently, it appears that Twitter is a good stand in.
And sometimes, you get a to a certain point where you realize that you have to make and keep some promises. To yourself, to others, to the universe. And the universe starts to seem personal again. Like God. And you wonder if you’ve failed. Well, you know you have, but you wonder what the consequences will be.
Peace and solace don’t take up residence in Christmas and Christmastime. It starts within. That’s the problem really. We keep looking in other places, avoiding that nasty work. We keep thinking it’s our circumstances or someone else’s fault. We keep waiting. Anticipating. Expecting.
We are what makes this promise kept. We are really saying “Promise Me,” to ourselves.
Jeremiah 9:20
But if I say I’ll never mention the LORD or speak in his name, his word burns in my heart like a fire. It’s like a fire in my bones! I am worn out trying to hold it in! I can’t do it!