It seems as if everywhere I turn lately I see it.
Taking on different forms and different names, but I see it just the same. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of it head on, other times a peripheral vision of it. At other times I can feel it, sneaking up on me. It taps me on the shoulder and then runs and hides. Like a young friend initiating a game with me. Except it’s a game that I don’t want to play and it is no friend of mine.
We went to an apple orchard a few weeks back and came home with a bounty of delicious apples of all sizes & varieties. The honey crisp apples were some of largest apples I have ever laid eyes on but I also discovered my new favorite eating apple there, the Liberty apple.
We have been having apples as snack for weeks now. We’ve had sliced apples on their own, dipped in peanut butter, slathered in homemade caramel dip, apple crisp and apple pie. I won a dehydrator off of a local auction site (the extent of my excitement over this was somewhat embarrassing) and set off to make some apple chips.
It’s the first day back to school here in my sweet little hometown of Austin, MN. I spent the morning pouring through posts & pictures on Facebook of friends & family sharing glimpses of their morning. There were the sweet little smiles of Kindergarteners waiting for the big yellow bus to pick them up and take them off to school for an entire day. There were excited Seniors ready to conquer their final year and enjoy all the lasts this year will offer them. Some parents posted of their excitement to ship the kids off to school and to a more structured routine. Others were white knuckling it as they dropped off their kids and the door shut behind them.
This one word has followed me around this advent season. And to be honest, it has been following me around for most of this past year.
Emmanuel. God with us.
It seems fitting here as I gaze out the window at the beautiful fresh fallen snow on the ground. As I watch the snow flakes continue to fall onto the painted white ground. In the advent season, the days leading up to our Savior’s birth, the name Emmanuel is heard often. As we read scripture verses, as we sing hymns, it’s repeated over and over. And we think of the tiny newborn baby coming to be…with us. His amazing grace all wrapped up in swaddling clothes, laying in a manger. The first time Jesus is with us.
Where I didn’t expect to find Emmanuel was in the hot, dry heat of Zambia, Africa.
