All I have to do is whisper

Jesus.

What does it mean?  The Word.  This name.

Sometimes expressing irreverence.
Sometimes engraved on jewelry.  On skin.
Sometimes the brunt of media humor.

But for me.  This year.
More.
Even more.

Coming from the Advent season into a new year.
Singing still.  Emmanuel.

Dragging it into the new year like a favorite worn blanket.
Familiar.  Much loved.  And calming.
Like a silent night.

Christmas around the table not as full as in years past.  And yet.
For our family.  Goodness.  Just in being together.
The demands of the past year pulling hard on preparedness.

And my heart full.
For what is.

Because life is a struggle.  A battleground.

And though I have loved for many years.  This Jesus.

I feel at times much like a prodigal son.
And the Father running toward me.
In my pain, my fear, my scattered. 
Reminding me. 

Again and again.

Grace.

And all that is required of me.
To love back.

This indescribable, unfathomable love.
I too easily forget.

The pain helping me to see.

Emmanuel.

All year.
In the depths of my being.

And all I have to do is whisper.

Jesus.