I know what I'm serving on December 26th. Not that I have decided tonight's meal. I mean what's the rush. But our entire clan of sixteen will converge at two Airbnbs in the Poconos for seventy two hours and I want to be prepared. The shopping list is in my phone with such delectables as pure maple syrup for the gluten free waffles, and apple crisp with freshly whipped cream for after dinner. 

All of this is of course based on the presumption that my nine kids and their besties will be hungry. Maybe not starving, since someone else in the meal rotation is planning dinner for the night before, but enough to justify using my widest bowl for batter. 

Getting ready is integral to my experience of Christmas. While we have all agreed to scale way back on wrapped gifts I cannot quite let go of tucking hand made soaps into stockings, and creating a few surprises in cahoots with Ben. Socks too, seem in order, plus copies of their father's and my most recent books. 

For their part, my adult children have booked flights and arranged rides from the airport, and as the time draws nearer will cram clothes into just the right size suitcase to fit in an overhead. 

Spontaneity has its place. I have been known to leap in the car and join a friend for lunch, or accept a last minute sewing student. But lead time means a late sleeper won't end up with an empty breakfast plate. 

I am not the only person on my street to anticipate holidays. Colored lights don't blink without someone finding the extension cords, and the UPS driver isn't getting home in time for supper much. 

God did His share of preparing too. It's hard to flesh out the details of a census that set thousands of pilgrims packing, or the prophecies that coalesced like a constellation of Truths to spur wise men to leave for distant lands. 

It seems that God gets eager too at the potential for blessing His children. He knows that that slippery clean sensation never gets old, and slips the right badness buster within arm's reach. He understands that sweet treats bring even the farthest flung of His own across the threshold. 

Which is why Christmas works at all. Leaning heavily into the likelihood that we will be lonely, or afraid, or just lost enough to forget to look up at the Star, the King of Kings has been keeping our place at the table warm since before we realized we were hungry.