Christmas is a beautiful holiday. It is a season of love and giving from the heart. It is a time of sharing, caring, and spreading hope to neighbors and strangers. But it is also a big, fat mess. It brings wrapping paper scraps and broken bows scattered around the house. Crafts and cookies put smiles on the faces of children and permanent creases on the brows of their mothers. Tinsel, glitter, and sprinkles find their way into every article of clothing and under each piece of furniture.
My friends and loved ones are filling their Instagram feeds with gorgeous images of perfect decorations. I am doing the same thing. But where are the other pictures? Where is the mess? Where is the glitter on the two-year-olds face or the frosting that landed on the floor? In the middle of my “perfect Christmas,” I realized that the messes are significant too. The sprinkles on the kitchen floor and wrapping paper scattered over my bed are more than empty chaos.
They tell a beautiful story. In between the smears and smudges and scattered paraphernalia is a whisper of boldness and courage. It is our willingness to embrace the mess, which spreads the Christmas Spirit. After all, Christmas is not about perfection; it’s about daring to believe that God’s love can be born in the most unlikely and implausible circumstances.