Every morning death is at our door in the form of a six-foot pile of deflated penguin. The older kids call him Peter. Our youngest prefers Snowflake. Either way, each morning Peter/Snowflake is lifeless nylon.
I used to snark at families with morning graveyards of Christmas characters. Now we are one of those families. And while the mornings are a bit apocalyptic (okay, that’s an exaggeration), at night Peter/Snowflake comes alive (zombie?). The evenings are when Peter/Snowflake is infused with life and light and all the things Christmas.
Also an overstatement.
I wonder if that is what we mean when we speak of a person’s soul- what makes someone come alive and light up. A soul is what infuses someone with energy and possibility, beauty and playful zest. Our soul is the divine breath within us that awakens us to a world and our call to dance within it. #Advent is as good a time as any to contemplate the health and wellness of our soul- our sacred center. Advent is also when we recognize, maybe even confess, when and how we have felt so very deflated as we wait for love to come down again. Then we dare to let others help us seek and find whatever might restore us to who we have been created to be in the midst of it all. To come alive once more.