“The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through was a longing. These things — the beauty, the memory of our own past — are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.” — C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Have you ever listened to a piece of music that seems to move right past your ears down to your very soul? It connects too deeply for words, something grander than this world. Or perhaps you’ve read a line in a book that makes you stop and sigh because it says what you’ve been longing to say and couldn’t quite find the right words.

I remember feeling that way the first time I saw a performance of Les Misérables, the musical based on Victor Hugo’s powerful book. The New York audience applauded then took off for late night suppers or to catch their last train home. I couldn’t move. I was shaken by the truth and grace of redemptive love, amid human brokenness.

I have welcomed these moments as rare finds on the long walk home.

I’m not so sure how rare these gifts are anymore. Each Christmas we celebrate the birth of Christ, Emmanuel, God with us and then we move on. We take down the trees and pack away the ornaments and nativity scenes and January becomes the struggle to get back into life. I don’t want to live that way anymore. So, in 2017 I am learning to slow down and pay attention.

“Be still, and know that I am God.”
— Psalm 46:10a

It’s not easy. It feels as if I’m straining against the weight of a culture that tells me to hurry up as there’s somewhere else to go and someone else to see. Frankly, I’m tired of hurrying up. I want to learn to be still. I want to stop and be grateful. I want to see through the eyes of Christ. If December 25^th announces that God is with us, then January 25^th and beyond should be the outworking of that gift to a broken world in desperate need of redemption. Our world turns in a million directions trying to satisfy the longing that only Christ can fill. When they look to us will they see the wonder that is Him?

My morning prayer has become,

Father, today give me eyes to see what I might miss.
Give me ears to hear beyond what someone is saying — to hear what is taking place in their heart.
Let my life reflect Your love in unlovely places.
For Christ’s sake,
Amen