The Guest

By Zoanna Pearson,
Selah Companion

I remember the year my son came home for Christmas

we lived a continent apart

My excitement was tangible

my expectation vibrated

I planned meals that he would enjoy

I baked his favorite cookies

His bed was made with soft sheets

new towels were laid out just for him

His coming was all I could think about for weeks

I anticipated his arrival with eagerness

How do I prepare for the King of all Kings

do I sit in prayer, waiting for his arrival

remembering his journey from seed to divine human

Can I imagine opening the front door and seeing him standing there

accepting his gift of a perfect leaf or tiny feather

Or perhaps, he’ll come early, roll up his sleeves and help

asking about the recipe or why I dislike pecan pie

Do I set the table picturing him in the seat of honor

do I bless the food not as I eat it but as I prepare it

Will I thank him for all the hands that touched it before me

ask blessings on each person who sits with him today

No glitter, no twinkling lights, no ornaments or festive packages

candles, aroma, soft music, laughter, gratefulness

Oh, welcome, Lord Jesus, I’m so glad you came