Packing up Christmas

David is off at work, the kids are playing at the neighbors, so I have a rare quiet evening to pack up our extensive Christmas decorations.
I love the wonder of this just-passed holiday. The magic, the glisten, the way things twinkle.
As I am packing the boxes to be put back up in the attic, I keep thinking about what it will be like when we bring these down again. What will happen in 2015? I can guess: we will still be in this house, I will be partially through my second year teaching 4th grade in my same classroom, my kids will be 8 and 10 and still healthy and kind and wonderful, David will be working with teenagers at Church on the Hill, our good friends will still be close and I will spend my down time similar to how I spend it now.
However a nagging part of me thinks that maybe I am wrong. I have run into a lot of trouble trying predict the future in my life before, so I have learned from those foolish mistakes. This is not a defeatist mindset. I know my God will still be big, good, and unpredictable. I could wake up tomorrow and He could say, "Go to Tanzania," and my Christmas boxes might have to go in storage. Or this year could be a hard one- our little family might face some tough things- real tough. I am not prophesying, I am however acutely aware that my life has been ridiculously, unfairly advantaged, and if God saw it fit to walk us through sorrow, pain, trial, or heart-break it would be His purgative; and He would still be big, good, and unpredictable.
At Ecola (the Bible school I went to right out of high school, 16 years ago?!), I remember there was this somewhat pessimistic professor who said something about life being either going through hardship or recovering from hardship. I am far away from that attitude- my optimism is still very intact, but I know that it takes a second for everything to change. I have seen my friends and heard stories of people whose entire lives change in the slip of an ankle, the swerve on a slick road, the visit to doctor, the loss of a job, the reassurance of the addiction. So I am not so naive to think all will always be well.
So as I say farewell to my stockings and tree skirt, I remind myself that I am overwhelmingly grateful for the gargantuan blessings I have in my life, and I remember that these gifts and wealth is not for me: I have been greatly blessed to bless others. And also I hope that whatever lessons God has for us this year- hard or otherwise, I will greet next Christmas with the delight that comes from knowing my God has got this and is far better at seeing the future than I am.