Emmanuel

It’s December 13^th.   Twelve days until Christmas. 

Plenty of time.

Plenty of time to get the shopping done.  Plenty of time to wrap the gifts.  Plenty of time to trim the tree and mail the cards and bake the cookies. 

Don’t panic, my friends.  There is plenty of time.

I know how it goes.  We hustle and bustle all month long.  We rush around in a flurry, here, there, and everywhere.  Our minds race with all that must be done.  The commitments pile up and the lists grow longer and we wake up in a cold sweat fretting about whether we’re on track to accomplish all that we need to accomplish to pull this thing off. 

Did we remember to move the elf?  Did we remember to read the Jesse tree devotional?  Did we remember to put a treat in the advent calendar?  Did we actually order that gift for our mother-in-law, or did we just dream that we did?

It’s okay.  Christmas is busy.  We try to get things done early, but it’s tough to put much of a dent in the responsibilities that go along with making this much magic in a single month.  There are expectations this time of year – BIG ones – and most of them fall on us moms.

In addition to the myriad of roles we play every other day of the year - you know the ones – nurse, cook, housekeeper, chauffer, psychologist, rule enforcer, wife (that usually does seem to come in last, doesn’t it?), in December, we add a slew of duties to this mama position that can make our heads spin.

We do the planning and the decorating and the shopping and the baking and the surprising.  We create the cards and order the cards and stuff the cards and address the cards and stamp the cards and mail the cards.  We rack our brains to come up with the perfect gifts for everyone in the family and fuss about how much money we’ve spent to make everyone we love feel equally special.  We plan school celebrations and ornament exchanges and tacky sweater parties.  We cut and tape and tie and hide packages in places we might never find them again, and y’all, at six o’clock this morning I was using the tip of my pinky finger to spread Nutella on the tiny mouth of our elf, because, ya know, that sneaky little fella got into the candy jar last night while we are all sleeping lying awake trying to think of new elf tricks.

It’s okay.

Christmas is hard and I’m tired too.  My body shifted into overdrive the second we put away the pumpkin pie and my brain is turning to eggnog as I try to fulfill all the requests and requirements that go along with the biggest holiday of the year. 

But it’s okay.  I won’t get it all done and I won’t get it all right.  I will forget to send someone a card.  I will burn a batch of gingerbread cookies.  I will get him the wrong color and her the wrong size and I will worry about presents when the whole thing . . . the whole month . . . our whole life . . . is all about His presence.

I will screw up this Christmas because I am a mess, and isn’t it funny how He came?  Not in a royal palace, surrounded by the splendid majesty he deserved.  No.  He came in a barn.  He came in the middle of the dirt and the muck and the animals and the mess.

He came to be human, and the barn was the perfect place for him to enter the world, because it wasn’t perfect.  A king born in a messy barn was exactly the right setting, because he wants to settle himself in our mess.  He wants to settle in our messy hearts and stay forever.

So don’t panic, my friends.  Enjoy this Advent season.  Enjoy the hustling and the bustling and the extra obligations.  Enjoy the rushing and the racing and the added commitments.  Amid your shopping and wrapping and celebrating, feel the comfort he provides.  Feel the peace he brings.  Feel the hope he offers.  Feel his light and love envelop your soul as he settles deep within, content to stay as long as you let him.


There is plenty of time to get ready for Christmas. 


There is plenty of time to get ready for His coming. 

Because He’s already here.

Turn on the Light

Life has been a bit of a whirlwind lately, and the words just haven’t come.  That Lent project of mine seems so far in the past – the days when I could find gratitude around every corner.  Turns out, when you’re searching for things that make you feel thankful, the world seems full of those things.  You feel thankful.  But when you stop looking, the gratitude is no longer so easily found.  And the thankfulness?  Well, it begins to wane as many of those things you once counted as blessings begin to bear down more like burdens.

It’s when I’m in the dark that I realize how far I have to go.  When life is hard and everything feels like work and I doubt and fear and dread.  That’s when I understand the true state of my soul.  That’s when all signs point to the fact that I still don’t look anything like Jesus. 

He’s in there somewhere.  Buried deep among my discontent, he sits patiently waiting for me to look past my selfish mess and see him reaching for me.  Every so often, I acknowledge that he’s calling my name, and I rush towards him, full of eagerness for our reunion.  But the connection is brief.  I’m like a child who races towards her father when he shows up at the park, only to give him a quick hug before running off again, free to go and do and be as she pleases.

I know I should linger in his presence.  He is the only one who can provide the comfort I seek.  And yet, I search for it in anything . . . in everything else . . . and then act surprised when there is no comfort to be found.

There will always be dark places in our lives, and dark is difficult .  It’s disorienting and dangerous and it makes us feel so alone.  Just imagine being in a completely dark room – nothing but blackness all around.  You can’t even see what’s right in front of you.  You’re scared and you’re stuck and there seems to be no hope at all.  Now, think about what the flame of even one small candle brings to that dark place.  With a single spark, physical light enters your surroundings.  It makes the darkness recede, and suddenly, you have knowledge and understanding.

Jesus is light.

When life is dark, He is the one who illuminates what is real and shows us the way.  We just have to remember to look for the light.

I stopped looking.  That little Lent project of mine – the channeling my inner Ann Voskamp and counting blessings each and every day – it ended when Easter came.  I celebrated the resurrection – the single greatest reason for hope - and then I stopped looking for reasons to be thankful. 

Man I have SUCH a long way to go.

You see, when I don’t focus on the source of light, all I see is dark.  When I don’t let the light of the world bring clarity and truth that point me in the right direction, I end up in stumbling through blackness.

Light overcomes darkness.

Jesus overcame death.

If I walk towards the light . . . if I run to Jesus . . . I will find my way.  I will find the comfort and peace and freedom I’m looking for.  The dark will disappear and I will be thankful again.