It’s the day after Christmas and I am not quite sure what to do with myself.

The decorated trees are still emitting their warm glow of their white lights (except for the strain or two that have gone dark on the pre-lit tree). The various containers of festive yummies are still smattered along the kitchen counter (although they aren’t nearly as full). The leftover scraps of colorful paper and iridescent ribbon are still staying around the edges of the rug and the tree skirts (even though we did fill a large trash bag of trappings when we opened gifts yesterday).

All the things that had to be done are done. All the people that needed to be seen were seen. All the items that needed crossed off were crossed off. We went. We ate. We gave. We got. We traveled. Yesterday was the deadline.

The time will come for deep cleaning and setting the house straight for the new year. Laundry will resume. The normal flow of the care and keeping of our home will commence again. But, today is not that day.

Today there is no place to go, nothing that has to be done. And . . . I realized that without the distractions of the busiest season on the year, that today requires rest, and respite, and reflection.

The last 25ish days were spent celebrating Christmas and they were sweet. Thanksgiving weekend melted into the first Sunday of Advent. The season really began for me as I prepared to host family and friends for our Turkey Day feast. I can’t think of better way to initiate the season and prepare myself spiritually than to intentionally be still and thank Him for all He has done and for all He is.

For Advent this year, I purchased a small devotional to guide my quiet times and center my heart through the 25 days of December. Caroline Cobb’s “Advent for Exiles” was recommended by one my favorite authors, Glenna Marshall, and I bought it straight away. By one of His many graces, this little book continued the themes of “already and not yet” I had been studying through the fall. Ruth Chou Simmons’ book, “Now and Not Yet” has been pointing me toward scriptures and truths for this season of waiting I’ve found myself in:

Trusting His character. Relying on His promises. Remembering His faithfulness – throughout the Bible and throughout my life. He is trustworthy. He promises to provide all that is necessary. He told us He’d come once, that He would save us and He did. He has said He is coming again and He will.

As a believer, I am an exile. This world is not my home and I have a whole lot in common with the exiles that Isaiah prophesied to in Old Testament times. It is easy to grow weary, to wonder why and what if, to worry about and to wish circumstances away. Yet, this Christmas season as I pondered the birth of Jesus from the perspective of my current life situation, it helps to see my position as an adventure.

On Facebook, I saw where a church in Kentucky kicked off Advent this year with a special Sunday morning event for their kids: “Pajamas and Pancakes – ADVENTure Party.” The whole church joined in to get the children excited about the true meaning of the season – celebrating the incarnation, the coming or advent, of Immanuel – God with us. They advertised giving kids a special activity box, an “ADVENTure” Box,” to help their families celebrate Advent. Not only do I love this idea, but the idea of Advent, being an “adventure” really resonated with me.

I’ve been praying a liturgy this fall as well – “A Liturgy for New Seasons of Life.” In it, there’s a section I have prayed over and over again: “Draw us out into the wild, into the places we cannot see. May we not be afraid of the uncharted realms, but thrilled for the adventures they hold.” (emphasis mine)

I have choices to make. In this pause between Christmas and the New Year, I can choose to face the uncertainty of the future with fear, or I could double down on my prayer to embrace this season as an adventure. I can worry about what I don’t know, or I could press into Jesus and what I know about Him. I can seek additional distractions, or I could learn how to be still and acknowledge He is God and He is good.

I know what I should do. I know what I want to do. Yet, today I find myself with no motivation to resume the routine. I wandered aimlessly through and around the house. God seemed to be telling me to be still. When I tried to open my work laptop and begin a required class for my certification, the log in kept responding with an error message. So, I rested with Scrabble, an historical fiction novel and the adventure today looked like waiting. Being still and trusting that God would continue to take care of all the things in the best way, in the only way He knows how to do things.

The day after Christmas is a day of rest and reflection for me.