Home for the Holidays

"Our" 700' sq foot cabin in the woods last winter.

"O come let us adore Him...." The girl child sings and plays keys slow. Slowed down, the notes hang long and low. The rain hums alongside the notes. I'm reading Cabin by Lou Ureneck and thinking of home. What is a home? "...Christ, Christ, the Lord," is home.

Boy cuts out snowflakes, arctic crystals.  They will grace windows that glisten with rain. Why does what is good seem to melt away some days? I long to slow the notes of the season. To capture precious notes hanging in the air, before they melt like snow.

Make a home in the moments. Make a home in Christ.