on repeat

I’m not sure when exactly this started to happen, but it feels like it was just Christmas or Easter or some season that I have already done before.

And writing about it makes me feel a little tapped out. Like I am just on repeat. Posting the same old posts (well partly because I am).

And the seasons are getting away from me. Slipping by faster and faster, hardly before I can get my tree up it is time to take it down.

And I wonder if it even matters at all. To do the same show every year. The same parties. The same extra 10 pounds and buying the same presents that I really can’t afford.

And church is a little bit on repeat too. We sing the same songs and talk about the same teenage girl and the story we have all heard hundreds of times. 

And of course, It matters to my 5 year old who checks the advent calendar every day. And tells me that there are only 2 more days til Christmas because there are only two more links left on the chain he made at school. Like ripping off paper chains will make it come faster. Every day his wish list grows longer and he worries about Santa finding him at Gram and Grumps house. But he could drive around and look at Christmas lights every night without complaint. And Tess could sing Jingle Bells dozens of times without ever tiring. And they could both watch Elf over and over and laugh harder each time. There are not enough cookies or Santas or parties.  They are eager for the day to get here but not for it to be over with. They are not tired or overcommitted or on repeat.

They are excited and hopeful and joyful. And all of those things Advent is about. Except maybe not so much about Jesus as I’d like. Because a few days ago when I asked my kid whose birthday we celebrate on Christmas he told me “Devon Webb” who I think is a kid in his class who had a birthday this week. And R2D2 has mysteriously replaced Jesus in the Little People nativity scene. But they will get it eventually. One day they will understand the point. One day they will be more excited about giving than opening up their own presents. One day they will drive their own kids around night after night to look at lights or to sit on Santa’s lap or stay up late baking cookies for another Christmas party.  One day they will untangle their Christmas lights one more time and put up the same tree and try to tell the same story about the same baby. Again and again. Year after year.

And I hope they do it with the same wonder and joy.  I hope they never get stuck on repeat.

Just like my God. Who loves to tell the same story of love over and over. And listen to my same pleas without growing tired. Who forgives every time I ask, often for the same old stuff. And who whispers my name as many times as I need to hear it.

That Jesus didn’t just come once some two thousand years ago, but that he managed to stick around if I just look. And that maybe I need to be reminded  over and over in these same seasons that he can be found in hearts and people all the time. Again and Again. Every year and Every day. And it never gets old.

 (and the pictures are from Christmases past. Because I don't really get tired of looking at them either).