Guest Post: On the Other Side of Winter…

 

We are entering the final week of the Spirit of Christmas series. My guest today is Christa Wells. I was familiar with some of Christa’s music long before I knew her to be the songwriter behind them. Christa and I connected on Twitter, and I recently had the pleasure of meeting her when she performed at a local listening room. Her songs, as well as her words here today, have a way of burying themselves in my heart and comforting some of the deepest wounds. I hope you enjoy Christa’s story of being home for Christmas.

 

It’s early. Over-sugared coffee sits beside me on the couch and the ornamented tree crowds & brightens the room. My feet rest on the coffee table whose center section is still missing its round pane of glass.

We broke it months ago. Any cup or book looking for a place to rest is relegated to the smaller intact corners.

This is the second time we’ve broken the large middle piece, set something down too hard, the second time I’ve seen the split and had to carry the remains away and wait for repair.

Someone questioned our judgment when we bought the glass-topped table from Craigslist years ago. “You sure?” they asked.

Of course I was.

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” holds new meaning this year after a well-traveled autumn. I promised: It’s just a little bit on the other side of Thanksgiving. Then I’ll be home.

And here I am. Home.

Home. Where the table is still broken. Where my bathroom walls are still stripped of wallpaper (and a good bit of drywall) and my clothes are still on the floor where I dropped them a week ago.

Home. Where I lose my temper and fail at routine. Where I struggle to be present with my loved ones because of the constant conversation and word- smithing happening inside my head.

Home. Where things sometimes get set down hard enough to shatter someone and the holes in my heart affect small children and a husband. Where I remain waiting repair and find it little by little, through rest and through trial.

Home. Where I am free to not be fixed all-at-once or once-and-for-all, despite my ache to be so.

Israel waited how many hundreds of years for the arrival of the promised Way- Maker, and the earth still groans for a final righting of wrongs. You and I crouch close together in the field, weary of our own insides dying for more than small victories, for full transformation and release.

The grass under our feet has frozen into stiff blades that crunch and break under our weight, but just over the edge of the hill, burns the faint glow of sunrise. The promise of a Repairer-Restorer who specializes in broken glass.

While we wait, He comes in the form of a Soul-Breather to warm and strengthen and offer small intact places to rest our bones.

Eventually we’ll take that round of glass to the shop, bring it home whole. Again.

Eventually, we fragile creatures will stop fracturing, become transparent and whole. Fully become.

So speaks the promise delivered by a fragile God-human creature 2,000 years ago who even now wraps Himself round our brittle shoulders while we wait, whispering:

It’s just a little bit on the other side of winter…

 

Award-winning singer-songwriter Christa Wells crafts honest and poignant piano-driven pop songs about home, family, grief, and hope. Named 2006 Songwriter of the Year by the Gospel Music Association, The Christian Manifesto called her 2011 EP How Emptiness Sings “nothing short of phenomenal.” Christa’s new album, Feed Your Soul, is now available on iTunes and Amazon.