12/18/2022
If you look close, really close, you’ll see it-Tiny fingerprint touched to plastic jewels.
The first year I saw it, I sorta gushed and carried on. Busyness will do that to a mama. Completing a checklist in a busy season of life can make you feel kinda sorta honestly-not really complete and whole.
The next year, it was still there, that small sweet fingerprint touched to crystal. I flashed back to the year prior, thought I would/should be a polished homemaker by now, should’ve cleaned the residual oils that left that small print. But…dinner needed to be fixed, children needed clean clothes, and schooling needed to be completed.
I carefully wrapped the crystal ornament that sticks out like a sore thumb into tissue paper for storage that year, thinking I’d do a little science experiment to see just how many years that fingerprint might stay.
It stayed.
This year, I saw things differently. I noticed there’s no one in the house with fingerprints that small anymore.
I never could figure out quite which mancub the fingerprint belongs to, and that’s okay. Their fingerprints managed to etch into my heart-the way they grew me, exhausted me to my knees, the way they were the gift more precious than any ornament. They were the jewels.
When the wise men found Jesus, they showed up with things that in the worldly sense are precious. But, when they left? They were convinced they’d been in the presence of THE crown jewel.
They witnessed King of Kings, Anointed One, Messiah-and were forever changed.
