...being enough

A confession? This time of year gives me an inferiority complex. I continually seem to come up short, run late, disappoint myself.

Advent beckons to me, to come away, to quiet myself, to slow my breathing, to wait in stillness for the world to turn upside down. And year after year, my already tumped-over world gets in the way of my good intentions. And year after year, my 'meant to's turn into 'should have's, and anticipation becomes regret.

Christmas beckons, with its glitter and sparkle, its jingle and laughter. And year after year, I run out of calendar on the way to making magic. Just-right gifts don't get bought, wrapping paper stays wrapped around the cardboard tube, carols remain unsung. What good is being a visionary, with these feet of clay?

I want to believe, though, that what I bring is enough. That this broke-down season, this cobbled together holiday, this Charlie Brown tree of a practice that is my attempt, despite my best intentions--that this offering is enough. Leonard Cohen wrote:
     Ring the bells that still can ring
     Forget your perfect offering
     There is a crack in everything
     That's how the light gets in.

Still trying. But I will be the one, bringing up the rear, toting my imperfect offering.
It's enough. Thanks be to God.