{This post is part of a series on celebrating The Twelve Days of Christmas.}
We moved.
Boxes line the walls, the counters are crowded with plates and foodstuffs that have yet to find homes, we’re all tired and sore and bruised and did I mention tired?
And yet, it’s Christmas.
We’ve wandered, somewhat bleary, through the last five days of Christmas. Our readings have been quiet, somewhat subdued, mostly devoid of any of the lively discussion we normally enjoy during Bible study.
Christopher and I are struggling to not feel cheated out of this most beautiful season. We’ve waited all year, we’ve prepared our hearts, we desire to rejoice. But this moment in time …
We are tired.
And so, in the evenings, we turn to the quiet, understated study of the most basic, most beautiful elements of our faith. The four Gospels, the pentatuch, creation. Despite the weariness that settles on our days, we find peace.