"Boughs of Holly"

I have a new meditation area. It's my drive between the school on Woodland and the school on St. John. It's become the stretch of commute where I do by best thinking.
Now, I have to be pretty careful about deep ponderings, as I drive this stretch of city streets, because I have to watch out for copper thieves, possible dead bodies, police cars and the dreaded "traffic circle". It's a rough neighborhood, folks.
Anyway, earlier this week, as I drove along the Avenue, I noticed piles of colorful material spread out on several lawns. It took me a minute to realize (no flashing lights or visible crime tape) that they were the deflated remains of Christmas Inflatables. And, a morose sadness overcame me. I almost had to pull over and stop. But, given the wee hour of morning and the desertedness of the street, I sensibly kept on driving.
Anyway, in the daytime, the lighted night-time blow-ups of Santas, Snowmen, and even Nativity Scenes are just piles of sad and limp material. Isn't this the way we often feel when the holidays come to an end?
We've worked days and days on the preparation, the presents, and the food. Then suddenly, it's all done. Stick a fork in it.
Now what? It's back to everyday life. The lights and fans are turned off. We've lost the Christmas Spirit.

Tiny Baby God, help us to keep the Spirit of the Season year round. You don't leave us. Why should we abandon you? Just because the radio ceases to play Christmas music, doesn't mean that the true meaning of Christmas is over.
God, can you remind me, every so often, to "Deck the Halls"? Just a nudge would keep me INFLATED for the next 10 months or so. I am truly blessed.